The Road Taken
by Awahili
Summary: What if Dumbledore had listened to McGonagall on that fateful Halloween night? Where would the BoyWhoLived live then? And what if the Dursleys weren't Harry's only relatives? Not a Severitus challenge, but similar. CH 9 FINALLY!
1. Chapter 1

I'm back and ready to write! I've been refreshed from my hiatus, and now, after several weeks without writing, I am pleased to say my muse is healthy and anxious to inspire. So, without further ado, I give you The Prologue.

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_October 31st, 1982_ – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry__

"Albus! Albus must see you at once!" A 23-year-old Severus Snape pounded on his ex-Headmaster's door. When the old wizard finally opened the door, Severus realized the man now looked every year of his age. Severus strode through the door and stopped at the sight of the two men sitting on the couch, holding an infant. Immediately, Severus whirled.

"What's happened, Headmaster?" he asked, his voice considerably softer than it had been moments ago. The venerable man sighed and reclaimed his seat behind the desk.

"Godric's Hollow was attacked Severus. Sirius betrayed them; James and Lily are dead." Severus merely stared, unblinking, unwilling to believe.

"No, that's not true. Albus, tell me it's not true!"

"I'm afraid it is, Severus."

"And the boy, Harry?" Albus nodded at the sleeping infant between the strange men.

"Severus, this is Mundungus Fletcher and Alabastor Moody, Aurors. They are new members of the Order, and were first on the scene. They said that little Harry here was unharmed, wailing for his mother." Severus wordlessly walked over to the men and lifted the child out of their hands.

"What happens to him now?" he looked back up at the Headmaster, dreading the answer.

"My first thought was Lily's sister, but Minerva quickly refused that. We brought him here until a decision is made." Severus nodded.

"What of their wills? Surely guardians were named?" This from Fletcher, who seemed almost hesitant to speak with Severus in the room.

"What were you so anxious to tell me Severus? Why were you in such a hurry?" Albus ignored the pending question for now, hoping a solution would present itself in time.

"Headmaster, I don't believe it is discussable in present company," he shot a sidelong glance at the two men, who huffed.

"Listen sonny, I've been fighting the likes of you for years now, don't tell me what—"

"Enough! I will not have you insulting a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Severus has been serving the Order as a spy in Voldemort's circle for years now." That seemed to silence them, though they were now staring incredulously at Severus. 

"That was probably not the wisest way to introduce me, Headmaster," Severus chided lightly. "But I came to tell you that the mark has faded. It's almost gone completely! And I don't understand. If Voldemort was planning an attack, why wouldn't he tell me, or all of us for that matter?"

"Perhaps he was testing the loyalty of his followers," the wizard answered gravely. "Or perhaps he was just testing yours."

"Not a comforting thought, Headmaster." He was about to continue when a knock startled them.

"Come in," Albus called. Minerva McGonagall entered, escorting a young Ministry man. "Yes, Minerva, what is it?"

"This man," she said gravely, "Is here with the Potters' wills." Albus smiled at Fletcher and gestured for the man to take a seat. He did so and took out his wand, flicking it so that papers streamed around him, organizing themselves and landing neatly in his lap.

"For James Potter, I request the presence of Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Albus Dumbledore. For Lily Potter, maiden name Evans, I request the presence of Harry Potter, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape." At his name, Severus' eyes snapped up. Surely he'd heard that wrong; not in a million years would Lily ever think enough of him to include him in her will. Albus stood before he could continue his train of thought.

"I'm afraid that I am going to have to request that Sirius Black be removed from the will. I'm sure you will find a betrayal clause in there, near the end." The Ministry man flipped through his pages magically, before nodding and grunting.

"Well, well, there is. I suspect you were a witness to this clause?"

"The whole will, my dear man. Now, I will go fetch Remus." Albus walked to the fireplace as Fletcher and Moody left, summoning his ex-pupil through Floo. The man answered, though he looked as if…

"His best friend just died," Severus finished his thought quietly, though Minerva heard him and shot him an odd look.

"Yes, Headmaster?"

"Remus, dear boy, would you mind stepping through. There are matters that must be dealt with." The man nodded wearily and stumbled through the fireplace as Albus stepped back. His gaunt face brightened a little as they landed on the infant still in Severus' arms, but dimmed again as the man from the Ministry cleared his throat.

"What of Pettigrew, Headmaster?" Remus broke into sobs at this.

"Didn't you hear?" he managed through his sobs. "Wo–Peter went after Sirius, but he wasn't strong enough. Sirius killed him, along with 13 Muggles. They're sentencing him to Azkaban as we speak." When he finally finished, the sobs erupted, and Minerva moved to comfort her former student. Though saddened by the tragic loss, Severus couldn't help but smirk inwardly. The Marauders weren't so high above everyone after all. They were taken down from within.

"May I begin the reading?" The Headmaster nodded at the young man, who shuffled through some papers before beginning the read.

"I, James Artemis Potter, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my belongings, estates, and monies to my son, Harry Potter, with the exception of the following. To Albus Dumbledore, I leave my invisibility cloak, and an apology. We used this numerous times to break a lot of rules, and I hope you can forgive us. Please take care, as it is a Potter family heirloom. To Remus Lupin, I leave my animagus study notes and my mahogany wand. Remember me, always Moony, Marauders forever." As he finished talking, he reached into his bag and handed the grieving man two books an old journal. "His wand will be given to you upon release." Remus nodded numbly, accepting the items. "The estates of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew will be defaulted to Mr. Harry Potter, when he is of age."

Severus shifted the child, but made no indication he was intending on setting the child down. Remus watched him, not really seeing, as Severus held onto the child, almost as some sort of lifeline as the man shifted papers and began reading again.

"I, Lily Margaret Potter, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my belongings, estates, and monies to my son, Harry Potter, with the exception of the following. To Remus Lupin, I leave my old bathrobe. You know why, Moony." No one made any attempt at a joke or jibe, not even Severus. Remus silently accepted the proffered item and sat back, nearly wrapping himself in the garment.

"To Severus Snape," Severus stood straighter and patted the infant on the back, listening to the last words of his secret friend. "Severus, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, nor have we agreed on a lot of things. I know now why you've made the decisions you have, and though I don't condone them, I do admire your strength. I have charmed this will to be incidental, and as you read this part, it means Sirius is unable to fulfill his duties, as appointed by James. So I ask you now, Severus, brother, please look after my son." Complete silence blanketed the room as the man handed Severus a ratty-looking journal and papers. He continued reading, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Please read the journal before deciding anything. I leave the choice in your hands, but I can think of no one better. Please do not let him fall to my sister. Dear Remus, you know why you cannot, and it bereaves me to think of the hurt you are feeling now." He ended and stood, dismissing himself silently. Severus stared at the journal in his free hand, the child notably heavier than he had been seconds before. Remus stood, laying a trembling hand on the sleeping child. He left hastily, promising to return the next day.

Severus handed the child over to Minerva rather awkwardly, and nearly ran out of the room. Albus watched him go with worrying eyes, silently pleading for the man to make the right choice.

Severus tore through the castle, ignoring the present students, and went straight to the lake. He collapsed down by the water, keeping his tears hidden from prying eyes. He clutched the journal in his hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. He choked back a sob as he sat back, propping himself against a small bush.

He carefully opened the journal, noting the familiar tingle of a pass spell; Lily had charmed it to open for him alone. The journal began flipping of its own accord, until it stopped on the next to last page, a page addressed to him. He lit his wand and read by spell-light, not caring who saw him now.

_Severus,_

_If you are reading this, then James and I have passed, and I was never able to tell you in person what I am about to in script. You and I, Severus Snape, are siblings. Half-siblings, yes, but siblings nonetheless. I'm not a Muggleborn, not totally, but I was forced to keep up the façade under Albus' orders. What you are about to hear might not be pleasant, but it is the truth. I have never lied to you in life, and I will not do so in death. Your father raped my mother, probably under the orders of the Dark Lord, to produce an heir for Voldemort._

_My mother was a Squib, not a Muggle, and he knew that she would produce a wizarding child if fathered by a wizard. I was to be taken away from my family, kidnapped and made heir to Voldemort, had I been a boy. Fortunately, I was a girl, and as normal as a Muggle. My mother believed me to be a Squib, and said nothing to her husband about the incident._

_Before her death in my seventh year, my mother confessed all. She performed the _Parentas_ charm on me, confirming my sire, Augustus Snape._

_I was planning on telling you, and snuck into the Slytherin common rooms. That very night, Malfoy was bragging about the Mark, and how many of his housemates had received it as well. He began naming them, and I felt horrified upon hearing yours. So I backed out, vowing never to tell you._

_Albus, in his infinite wisdom, lassoed me after graduation and sat me down in his office. He discussed you, mostly, as if he already knew my secret. He told me of your trials, your pressures, and your ultimate decision to join the Dark Lord. He also told me that he had faith in you; faith that you would come back to us. I didn't know to what he was referring, until I joined the Order some years later. James and I were so young, but so eager to fight. Not a few months later, you staggered into an old man's office, begging for release, begging to be freed from the burden you chose to accept. That night, at the Order meeting, you entered, and I could not look into your eyes. As you pledged yourself loyal to the Order, and loyal to the Light, my heart jumped. I thought that perhaps there was hope._

_James proposed to me that night, and we were enthralled in wedded bliss. I'm sorry to say I nearly forgot about you, until I had a child. The child has Mum's green eyes, and James' coloring, but if you look closely, you can see our father in him. Please look after him, Severus. He is your nephew, and it is your duty to do so. But if you will not do it for duty, do it for me, your baby sister. _

_Love,_

_Lily_

Severus shut the journal loudly, listening as the sound echoed off of the grounds. He stood purposefully, clutching the journal, and walked up to the gargoyle. Albus and Minerva were standing outside, as if waiting for him. As he approached, Severus' full attention was on the child. Lily had been right; there was some of their father in him. Tentatively he reached out, after pocketing the journal, and took the boy from Minerva's arms.

"Harry Potter," he whispered, "You're going to be famous, little one. But I promise you now, that I won't be an easy guardian. We're both going to have to do some adjusting." Albus smiled while Minerva gawked, not actually believing that her former student was taking on this responsibility.

"Shall I put him in your quarters, Severus?" Albus asked with a twinkle in his eye. Severus' head snapped up.

"My quarters, Headmaster?"

"Yes, dear boy. Professor Dillard has agreed to take you on as his journeyman, as you've already completed your schooling and apprenticeship. When he retires in four years, you will become the youngest Potions Master Hogwarts has ever seen, possibly the Ministry as well." Albus was beaming, but Severus was staring at him as if he were mad.

"Albus, the Ministry couldn't possibly have agreed to this. I'm an ex-Death Eater!" He nearly screamed the last, but caught himself in time. No need to frighten the students.

"Of course they agreed to it dear boy, I vouched for you. Do not worry yourself. I will show you to your quarters soon, please excuse me. Minerva, thank you for being here these last few days. You've been a blessing as always." A slight tinge painted the witch's cheeks as she bid goodnight and walked away. Albus clapped his hands together and smiled, the twinkle back in his eye.

"Now, if you'll follow me?"

"Albus, while I appreciate all of this, I believe raising the boy in the manor, away from Hogwarts, would be best. The boy is already famous, no need to add to it. If he grows up in this school, he will not be able to abide by its rules when he attends. He needs to know his teachers as teachers, not friends he can manipulate to his will." The Headmaster smiled.

"See, you're a natural, Severus. I'll send a house-elf to help you with things. Think of it as an early Christmas present."

"Headmaster, you were never one to see the elves as property," Severus sounded almost appalled.

"Yes, of course. Now, I'm sure you must be getting to the manor." Albus clapped his hands jovially. "Garon!" A small pop was heard and a young-looking house elf appeared.

"Yes sir, Headmaster?"

"Garon, I have appreciated your service for the loyal years you've spent here. But it is time for you to move on to a real manor, with a real master. I give you to Severus Snape, and his nephew, to serve and keep for as long as they want you." Garon smiled through his tears and clung to the Headmaster.

"Garon is sad for leaving you, sir, but Garon will serve his new masters proudly!" He bowed his head for Severus, who nodded rather uncomfortably in return. Severus gave the Headmaster a little smile and walked out of the castle, Garon trailing respectfully behind. Once they reached the barriers, Severus winked out, but not before seeing a single star illuminate brightly, then fade.

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This was just a thought that's been rattling in my brain for several months. Now, I have several questions for the readers, as I could go either way on this and would like to know what you want.

1)   Which house shall I put Harry in **_and why_**. That last part is important. It'll be a majority kind of thing, but more in depth answers will count more than a simple "Gryffindor" or "Slytherin." (note: That was just an example. I'll consider Hufflepuff if you give me a good enough reason!)

2)   I have two ideas for the next chapter.  Either a) I go straight to 11-year-old Harry on the train to Hogwarts with flashbacks to his life growing up, or b) I make the next chapter sectioned, year by year, one event a year in the boy's life as he grows.  If "b" is the choice, then it will be quite a long chapter, however, if you choose "a," then I will include his sorting (of course) as well as his first day of classes.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow.  That's really all I have to say.  47 reviews?!?  I thank you all so much for reading and responding.  As a special treat, I'm combining the chapters.  Harry growing up and the Sorting at Hogwarts.  Don't you just love me?

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"I do not know the first thing about caring for a child!" Severus realized as Harry began waking.  The young boy opened his eyes, focusing in on Severus.  Garon stopped behind them, craning his neck to see his young master.

"Master Snape, would you be liking some tea, sir?"

"Yes, that would be fine, Garon.  However, you may find the kitchen in disarray.  I have not been here for quite a while."  Severus cradled the infant in his arms, attempting to lull the child back to sleep.

"Garon will be cleaning, Master Snape.  Just call Garon if you be needing him."  The elf disappeared into the kitchen just as a loud bang resounded through the mansion.  Several people flooded through the doors of the den, one of them the Minister of Magic, Harvey Cornwallis.

"An outrage, I tell you!" the short man yelled.  "The Boy-Who-Lived under the care of the likes of you.  I should have thrown you into Azkaban, Snape."  Severus just barely managed to maintain his composure and call for Garon.

"Yes, Master Snape?"

"Go fetch the Headmaster.  Tell him he is needed at once."  The elf bowed and popped out, and seconds later, the Headmaster Apparated into the manor.

"What is the meaning of this, Minister?" Albus inquired.  Cornwallis pointed an accusing finger at Severus, his face red with anger.

"How could you let _him_ take Harry Potter!  The boy deserves to be with his family, Albus!  Not with a Death Eater!"  The Minister looked near-seething, but Albus merely held up a hand.

"Severus has been vouched for by myself, and several others would willingly do so.  He's fought against the Dark Lord, not with him.  And young Mr. Potter is with family, I can assure you.  It has been discovered that Severus is the boy's uncle, the half-brother of Lily Potter.  Next time, Harvey, you should consider gathering facts about the situation, not opinions and rumors, before accusing others.  Mr. Potter will be living here, however I think it most prudent if we did not openly advertise the fact.  He will have a hard enough time growing up in our world, where everyone knows who he is, without the people dogging his every footstep.  Let him enjoy his childhood, Harvey, as little boys should."

The Minister turned a scrutinizing gaze upon the pair before turning to his entourage.  "Let's go, after all, we do have celebrations to plan.  With the fall of You-Know-Who, wizards and witches can live in peace again."  They began filing out when the short man whirled.  "Oh, and Albus.  There will be a large celebration in Glacier Park tomorrow.  We've gotten the best anti-Muggle charmers from around the world together, and everything should be in order by tomorrow morning.  Everyone is invited, so will I see you there?"

"Of course," Albus returned jovially, immediately changing his demeanor as the Minister left.  "I am so sorry, Severus.  I don't think I realized the consequences.  Are you alright?"  Severus nodded and looked down at the sleeping infant.

"I am fine, Headmaster, thank you.  But I should be getting young Mr. Potter to bed."  Dumbledore smiled and bid goodbye before winking out.  Severus turned to Garon, handing the elf the child.

"Watch him for a few moments while I go upstairs and get his room together."

"Yes, Master Snape," the elf replied, watching as the elder man whisked away.  "Though Garon is not knowing how to care for a child either," he added to himself.

Snape made his way carefully up the stairs, taking in the place from his childhood.  Out of habit, he carefully tiptoed by the master bedroom to his old room.  Opening the door, a scene from his past played over him in his mind.

_"Severus, you were outdone in school by a Mudblood?  My son can't even manage to match one of those filthy creatures."_

_"Father, you don't understand, Evans is—"_

_"Evans?  As in the Gryffindor girl?  I thought I told you to take care of that last year!"  Something akin to a belt found its way into Augustus' hands, and soon Severus found himself over the man's knee, then standing before him, holding  in tears.  "I expect you to do better, Severus.  Make me proud." With that, the door shut, and Severus heard his father enter his room._

Severus blinked, his eyes returning to the present.  With a slight wave of his wand, the cobwebs disappeared, and he transfigured the bed into a couch.  Another spell connected this room with the master bedroom beside it, creating a door in the wall.

"This will make an acceptable study," he muttered to himself.  He continued down the hall, passing a guest room and a bathroom.  Another set of stairs led up, and Severus climbed again, trying to remember what exactly was up on the third floor.

He found a library, dark and dingy, as it hadn't been used in years, and a small living area that his mother had used to entertain her few and infrequent guests, connected to a small half-bathroom.  The white lace curtains were drawn, and Severus made his way across the old wooden floor.  An ancient family rug lay in the middle of the floor, underneath an oak dining table and silver cabinet.  Drawing back the curtains, he looked out over the garden.  The moon lit up the overgrown area, casting shadows on the statuettes.

Turning, he strode out, closing the sliding doors behind him.  He continued until he came upon a door at the end of the hall.  He opened it up, noting the narrow staircase.  _The attic, he thought.  Carefully, he ascended the steps, noting the durability of the old stairs.  He came up into the attic, noting the spacious area was nearly empty, save a few old trunks and a wardrobe._

After emptying the trunks completely, he flicked his wand.  The largest trunk he transformed into a double canopy bed with dark blue sheets.  The walls became a light gray, brightening up the room immediately.  Two other trunks he made into a dresser and a desk, both chestnut in color to match the wardrobe, and positioned them accordingly.  He piled all the miscellaneous items into the last trunk and levitated it behind him as he made his way back down to the master bedroom.  On his way down to the second floor, he made a note to make a special staircase leading only to the attic.  Harry would like that when he got older.

He dumped everything rather unceremoniously into the study, then transfigured the trunk into a bassinet for the boy.  Placing it in his room, he made to clean up when he heard a wail from downstairs, followed by another louder wail that could only belong to Garon.

Sighing dejectedly, he descended the stairs to see both of them in tears on the floor. Garon jumped up and hugged Severus' knees.

"Garon is sorry, sir!  Garon is not making him cry, but is not knowing how to make him stop!"  The elf wept into Severus' robe before the wizard shooed him off and picked up the child.

"Erm, there now, uh, no need to cry.  What is it you need?  Pfft, listen to me, talking to an infant as if he'll respond.  He's probably hungry."  He continued to talk to himself as he made his way to the kitchen, and Garon followed.

"Here is some milk for the baby, Master Snape," Garon handed Severus a bottle with slightly warm milk.  "It will help him sleep."  Severus took the bottle gratefully and sat down in the chair, trying to get Harry to take the bottle.  Finally, the child succumbed, and when Severus set the bottle down on the table, Harry laid his little head on the man's shoulder.

After putting the young man down, Snape turned to Garon.  "There is a small bedroom on the third floor, next to the parlor.  I, unlike my father and predecessors, take up the Headmaster's view on house elves.  You are not vermin, nor should you be treated as such."  The little creatures' eyes filled with tears, and he began sobbing violently into Snape's robes.

"Master is kind and gracious.  Some of the house elves is saying that Slytherins is all evil, but Master Snape has proved it false!  Garon does not deserve such a master!"

"Shh!  You'll wake him!" he gestured to the sleeping child.  "Now, go.  Breakfast is to be prepared at 7 o'clock."  The elf bowed deeply, still sobbing quietly to himself, and scattered up the stairs.  Severus followed the elf slowly up the staircase, careful not to wake the boy.  When he opened his door, he was surprised to find all his belongings already in the room; Garon must have worked some magic after the Minister's visit.

He gently laid the sleeping boy down in the bassinet, his fingers brushing over the red scar on his forehead.  Quietly, he stripped down, taking a quick shower, then laid down in the antique four-poster bed.  With one last glance at the bassinet, he placed his wand under his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

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_One year later…_

"Uncle funny!"  A three-year old Harry Potter giggled as he watched Severus' hair streak to snowy white.  Severus, not having the slightest clue what the child was talking about, pointed at the boy's soup.

"Eat now, Harry, or you will not visit Lupin."  Harry giggled into his spoon as his eyes darted from his bowl to his uncle.  Finally, Severus could not take it and stood, moving over to the mirror.

"Harry!" he whirled, but the toddler was already sprinting down the hall to the stairs.  Severus pulled his wand and stopped the boy mid-stride, easily catching up with him.  "Harry James Potter that is not funny."

"Yes!  Uncle funny!"  Severus scooped up the boy and carried him up to his room.

"No, it is not funny, and while I am very glad that you've begun to show your magical talent, I am not amused by your antics.  Now, you will stay in here," Severus set the boy down in the attic, "until dinner.  I will call Lupin and inform him of your cancellation."

"No!"  The toddler screamed, running to sit on his bed.

"Yes, and if you keep this up, you will go to bed with no dinner."  Harry crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, as three-year olds do.  Severus shut the door then locked it magically, to ensure his young charge did not come down the stairs and injure himself.  Harry looked at the closed door a moment before picking up his bear from the bed.  He hurled it across the room, and it landed in the dark cubby-hole next to the door.  After a few moments of silence, the three-year old hopped off the bed and ran over, picking up the bear from the pile of toys.  With tears, he noted the giant rip on the bear's front, and he carefully placed the stuffed animal on the bed, climbing up next to it.

"Fix!" he waved his hands at it, hoping his magical talents would mend the bear.  When nothing happened, he hit the rip.  "Fix!"  He let out a cry and began slapping the bear, trying desperately to fix the rip.  Finally, he threw himself down and cried into his sheets.  The door opened, and Harry looked up into the face of his uncle.  He thrust the bear into the man's face and smiled.

"Fix please!" he begged, but Severus shook his head.

"No, Harry.  You broke it yourself, and I will not fix it just because you decided to throw a tantrum.  It's ripped, and now you'll have to throw it out."

"No!" Harry hugged the bear close to him.  He had gotten that bear last Christmas from Severus, and it was his most treasured possession.  Severus stood as Harry returned to his lying position, crying on the bed.  He left the boy alone, to throw his tantrum in solitude.  Walking down the stairs, Severus sighed, reveling in the relative silence of the moment.  After a few seconds, he walked over to the fireplace. 

"Remus Lupin," he called.  The man appeared, more ragged than Severus was used to seeing.  "Are you alright, Lupin?  I called to tell you that Harry won't be able to make it today.  He's having a fit and I will not condone such behavior."  Lupin nodded sadly.

"I was going to call you, anyway.  Look, I uh, have to go away for a while.  I mean, with the new Minister and all, I just don't think it's prudent for me to be here.  I'm moving to Ireland."

"Ireland?  Do they put up with werewolves there?"  Severus hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but Remus didn't cringe at the tone.

"Yes, more than here.  Not many people know about my being a werewolf here, but unfortunately, Mikali is one of them.  He's made it very clear that we are not welcome in the Ministry.  Perhaps things will change in ten years, with the election of the new Minister, but until that time…"

"You run from your problems and leave me to tell the boy," Severus finished for him.

"Look, Severus, I know you don't like it, but what else would you have me do?  I have to go.  Tell Harry I'm sorry for me, and that I'll write him as soon as I can."  With that, the man disappeared, leaving Severus with the biting retort on his tongue.

"Damn him," Severus muttered.  "How convenient.  The werewolf runs off leaving me the bearer of bad news."  He sighed, knowing it would be foolish to delay.  He ascended the stairs to the attic, pleased with himself that he finally completed their construction.  He knocked lightly on the door and entered, finding Harry curled up on the bed with the ripped bear, fast asleep.  Severus pried the bear from the boy's hands, pulled his wand, and carefully mended the bear.

"Harry?" he shook the boy to wake him, and Harry blinked as he sat up.  Severus placed the bear beside him and sat down next to him.  "Harry, I need you to wake up; I have something very important to tell you."  The small child wiped his eyes and picked up the bear, hugging it fiercely, then turning the embrace upon his uncle.  Severus wrapped a large arm around the boy, sighing.

"Thanks, Uncle Sevrus."

"Your welcome, Harry, but I did not do it because of your tantrum.  You realize that?"

"Then why?" the boy asked curiously.

"Harry," Severus sighed again, "sometimes people do nice things to balance out bad news.  And I'm afraid I have some very bad news, Harry.  You see, Lupin won't be able to see you for a while."

"Why?"

"Because he has to go away for a long time."

"Why?"

Now Severus was beginning to get annoyed.  "Because the new Minister wants him to go."

"Me not like him," Harry stated, crossing his arms, and Severus couldn't help but laugh.

"Me neither, Harry.  Now, why don't you finish your nap, and I'll take you to the theater before dinner."  The boy smiled, laying down immediately.  "That's a good lad.  Sleep well child."  Severus pulled the throw from the end of the bed and draped it lightly over Harry, brushing stray hairs from the boy's forehead before leaving.

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_Two years later…___

"Lucius, as much as I'd love to finish this little chat, don't you have things to which to attend?  I imagine the Ministry is in quite an uproar on those illegal curses being used in Surrey."  The newly appointed Potions Master sipped his drink.

"Blowing it out of proportion, I assure you.  I sent some of my best people there.  Good day."  Lucius left the tavern in a rush, somehow managing to shun everyone in his way.

"To fix it, or to cause it, Lucius?" Severus mumbled to himself.

"To whom are you speaking, dear boy?"  Severus gave a slight nod as Dumbledore took the seat opposite him.

"No one Headmaster.  To what do I owe the honor?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid.  The attack in Surrey wasn't just a random use of illegal curses.  The Ministry has identified the Muggles attacked as the Dursleys, Lily's sister and family."  Severus stopped short at that and turned his full attention to the old wizard.  "Unfortunately, Mr. Dursley was the only survivor, but he's in a bad way.  It appears the Cruciatus was held on him for over ten minutes."

"Dear Merlin, Headmaster, he should be dead!"

"Yes, well, as it is, he is much like the Longbottoms: completely unresponsive to his environment.  He laughed madly when told his wife and son were murdered, and lapsed into catatonic shock not five minutes later."

"You want me to tell Harry," it wasn't a question, but a fact.  When the Headmaster nodded sadly, Severus pursed his lips.  "He never knew them, Albus, nor did I speak of them often, and never in a good light.  Perhaps it would be best if he didn't know."

"It is, of course, your decision.  I trust you to make the right one.  Good day."  Severus stood with the Headmaster and walked out with him, parting from him to pick Harry up from school.

"Uncle Severus!" he whirled at the sound of his nephew's voice, and stopped the five-year old's running assault.

"Whoa boy, careful.  You'll knock someone over!"  Harry smiled as he grabbed his uncle's hand, walking quickly to keep up with the man's long strides.  "How was school?"

"Fine," he said simply.

"Just fine?" Severus pressed.

"Yeah, what's for dinner?"  Severus steered them into the Floo Station.

"Shepherd's pie.  Do you have homework?" Severus asked.

"No, not on the first day.  Can I play out back?" he asked sweetly as they arrived at the manor.  Severus eyes the boy carefully, knowing there was something he was not telling.

"Fine, but not around the pool.  I haven't gotten to putting up the fence."  Harry smiled and bounded out back.

As Severus checked through the boy's bag (to insure that he, in fact, did not have work to do), he found a crumpled piece of paper.  Harry emerged from the bathroom and made a flying leap for the paper.

"No!  Don't look at that!"  Harry made one more grab, but Severus stood, taking advantage of his full height.  He opened the paper quickly to see a rather unflattering drawing of Harry, his glasses and scar emphasized gaudily on his face.  Severus looked down at the boy, but Harry was staring at the ground.

"What is this?" he asked softly, kneeling down to Harry's level.

"They make fun of my glasses and scar.  I keep telling them I got it from falling out of a tree like you told me to, but they keep making fun."  He bit his bottom lip, determined not to cry.  Severus picked the boy up and placed him on the couch, staying on his knees to look at the boy properly.

"Harry, what do you do when they make fun of you?" he asked sternly, almost dreading the answer.

"Well, of course I tell them that they're wrong, but they keep doing it.  And I shoved one today."  Severus sighed, both out of relief and a slight tinge of disappointment.

"Harry, you cannot get into fights with them.  What if your magic were to exert itself during a fight?  What would happen then?"  Harry shrugged and sniffled, indicating he was indeed crying, though silently.  "I'm only looking out for you, you know that.  And though I'm a little disappointed you resorted to physical violence, I'm actually a little glad you're sticking up for yourself."  Harry lifted his tear-filled eyes to his uncle.

"Really?"

"Of course, but next time they make fun of you, you must tell your teacher."

"I bet you never had that problem," Harry laughed.  Severus raised an elegant eyebrow, rising to join the boy on the couch.

"As a matter of fact, I was picked on a lot at Hogwarts."

"You were?  But why?"  Severus swallowed; this was wandering into dangerous territory.  He wanted to tell the boy, to calm his fears, but he also did not want to ruin the boy's image of his parents.  _Ha!  Severus Snape wants to preserve the honor of James Potter.  That's a switch_.

"Well, Harry, I wasn't well-liked in school.  I kept to myself mostly, or with Slytherins.  You see, in those days, there was no interhouse mingling.  Erm, students from different houses didn't talk to one another," he explained at the boy's perplexed look.  "Well, kids made fun of my hair, my nose, my loner status, anything they could find.  You know, kids who bully others only want one thing from you: a reaction.  As long as they know they can get you mad, they will keep upon you."

"So, if I ignore them, they'll leave me alone?" Harry asked hopefully.

"A wise man once told me: 'The next time someone makes fun of you, or taunts you, smile at them.  Nothing annoys them so much.'  I say the same to you.  Don't ignore them, but don't give them what they want either."  Harry nodded and smiled, wiping away his damp tears.  "Now," he picked Harry off of the couch and set him on the floor.  "Why don't you go get ready for bed, and I'll be up in a minute?"  Harry smiled and began to race down the hall, but as he exited the room he turned back.

"Uncle Severus, who made fun of you in school?"

"It's not important, Harry.  They can't do it any longer.  Now off with you."  The boy continued his path, and Severus heard the telltale signs of Harry tromping up the staircase to the attic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Two years later…___

"Come on, we must be going if we're to be back in time for the Headmaster's visit!"

"I'm coming!" Harry called from the stairs.  Moments later, Severus heard him trouncing down the stairs before emerging in a red leisure cloak.  "Ready!"

"Alright," Severus fastened the black cloak around himself and straightened Harry's clasp.  "Remember what I told you while we're in Diagon Alley.  If anyone approaches you?"

"Find you immediately," Harry responded.

"And if you get lost?"

"Go to Flourish and Blotts and wait for you there."

"And if you're kidnapped?"

"Kick and scream and cause a ruckus.  Can we go now?"  Severus glared at him, but shooed him toward the fireplace all the same.

"Remember to speak clearly.  Diagon Alley!"  Severus was whisked away in green flames, and Harry soon followed.  The seven-year old boy stumbled out, but was caught by Severus.  "Come, boy, don't dawdle."  Harry scrambled to keep up while simultaneously trying to look around wildly.  He didn't often come to Diagon Alley with his uncle; in fact, he hadn't been since he was four, so he didn't really remember.  Severus kept a tight hold of his hand, for which he was grateful indeed.  There were so many people bustling about that Harry wasn't sure if he could stay with Severus otherwise.

They entered the Apothecary quickly, and Severus exchanged a few courteous words with the owner.  Harry began to wander, and soon found himself pushed out into the street by a fairly large family.  He was almost sure his uncle would be furious, so he looked for the large purple sign that would indicate the book shop, and made his way there.  Once inside, he began looking around; he loved the bookstore, particularly the sports section.  Quidditch books of all shapes and sizes adorned the wall, and Harry began looking for one in particular; one he had seen many times in the mail order catalog.

"Everything You Need to Know about Quidditch," Harry read aloud, plucking the book from the shelf.  He settled down on the floor, preparing to open the cover, when he heard his uncle's voice.

"Young man!  What do you think you're doing?"  Harry jumped up, slamming the book shut.

"I'm sorry, I got pushed out of the shop, and I'm not tall enough to open the door, so I just came here.  I didn't think you would be mad."  Harry looked down.

"On the contrary, quite proud actually.  Not many young men would think so quickly.  What have you got there?"  Harry was so relieved that his uncle was not mad that he began talking a mile a minute about the book and how he'd always seen it in the catalog, and now he was actually holding it.  Severus placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Alright, alright, come on.  You're birthday is next week anyhow.  Consider this your present."  Harry launched himself at the man's middle, wrapping his thin arms around the man's waist.

"Thank you Uncle!"  Severus paid for the book and pulled a grinning Harry back home.  The boy immediately raced up his stairs and shut his door, determined to devour the entire book before dinner.

"Did I just see a smiling Harry racing up the stairs with a Quidditch book in hand?" came a voice from the den.  Severus jumped and whirled, nearly pointing his wand at Dumbledore.

"Merlin, Headmaster, you gave me a fright!  Yes, well, his birthday is next week.  I told him that it was his present."

"How kind of you," Dumbledore mused.  "He is turning eight next week, Severus.  Have you anything planned?"

"He wanted to invite a few of his school friends over for a party."

"Splendid!"

"No, Headmaster, it is _not_ splendid.  They are Muggles, we cannot bring them here."  Severus snapped his fingers, and Garon bounded down the stairs.

"Coming, Master Snape!  What is it you be needing?"  He stopped and bowed before his master.

"Dinner, Garon, something simple please."  The house elf nodded vigorously and set off for the kitchen.  The pots and pans clanging together told Severus that his order was indeed being carried out, and with a wave of his wand, an energy beam shot out to tell Harry that dinner would be in ten minutes.

"What about another place, Severus.  Somewhere out there," he gestured grandly, but Severus knew he meant the Muggle world.

"Are you mad, Albus?  What happens if –?"

"He will be fine, and you will be there to undo any damage the eight-year olds can cause.  How about a small party in the park.  The children can play on the new set, and we can plan your year."  Severus closed his eyes, knowing he would not win this battle.

"Very well, Albus, but only if you must endure with me."

"Wonderful.  Ah, Mr. Potter, how are you this eve?"

"Fine, thank you Headmaster.  Will you be staying for dinner?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I cannot.  I will see you next week.  Farewell."  With that, the old wizard popped out.

"What did he mean, Uncle?" Harry turned a curious look to Severus.

"He meant that next week, you may invite your friends to Thrasher Park.  We will hold a small party there from noon to three on Friday."  Harry small smile split into a beam as Severus escorted him to the dining table.

"Thank you Uncle!"

"Yes, your welcome, now tuck in to that.  You have summer work to finish, as well as your primary magic studies."  Harry nodded and picked up his fork, diving into his roasted beef.

Harry's birthday came and went, and the fall term began at Hogwarts.  Harry often saw himself home at night and into bed.  Now that his uncle had become Head of Slytherin House, he was needed at the school more often.  He came home only on weekends and holidays, but otherwise Harry was sought after by Garon and himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Two years later…___

"Wake up Master Harry!  It is the beginning of Christmas holidays!  Master Snape will be home soon!"  Harry smiled and jumped out of bed, quickly dressing in his green jumper.  He heard the Floo fire up and raced down his staircase, careful not to knock Garon over in the process.  

"Uncle!"  Harry wrapped his arms around the man's neck briefly before helping him with the bags.  "Welcome home!  How was the term?"

"Insufferable as ever.  Those damned Gryffindors are more annoying every year."  Harry laughed.

"Hey, my parents were Gryffindors."

"I know," responded the Potions Master.  Harry dropped the case on Severus' bed before hopping up himself.

"Uncle, what house do you think I'll be in?"  Severus stopped unpacking for a moment, before continuing.

"Harry, I cannot say, I am not the Sorting Hat.  I cannot get into your head and see who you are.  All of them have their own unique qualities."  Harry snorted.

"I thought you'd want me to be in Slytherin," he admitted.

"The thought has crossed my mind a time or two, I won't lie.  But the fact that both of your parents were Gryffindors is a strike against you."

"Hey!" Harry chuckled with his uncle.  "Better Gryffindor than Hufflepuff," he responded, to which Severus glared accusingly.

"Where did you hear that?" he wondered.

"You," Harry said, then his eyes widened and he made for the door, but it slammed shut in his face.

"Sit down, Harry."  The boy cringed, knowing what was coming.  "What have I told you about eavesdropping?" his uncle warned.

"That it's rude and ungentlemanly.  But okay if you don't get caught."  Severus hid a smirk behind his scowl.  _I've_ been a bad influence on him.  If he gets into Slytherin, Albus will have my head_.  _

"I don't believe I've ever told you that last part," Severus said mockingly.

"No, but you Garon said that you said that while you were at Hogwarts."  Severus raised an eyebrow.

"What else has he told you about my school years?" he inquired.

"Not much really.  Something about keeping your secrets.  Stupid house elves," Harry muttered.

"Listen to me," Severus grabbed his shoulders.  "There are things about my past that you would not understand right now if you were to hear them.  I promise I will explain everything in time, if only you'll trust me."  Harry shrugged and smiled innocently, and Severus knew then and there that Harry would be the death of him.

"Whatever you say Uncle.  What are we doing for Christmas this year?"

"Nothing special, Harry.  Just us."  Harry smiled and opened the door.

"Cool."  He ran out back to play in the snow until dinner, where warm hot chocolate awaited him.  He smiled as he went to sleep, lulled under by the soft twinkling of the stars.

"Come on Uncle Severus!  It's Christmas!"  Ten-year old Harry pounced on his uncle's bed, bouncing up and down until the man unceremoniously shoved him onto the floor.  "Umph!"

"I'm up, Harry.  Go downstairs and start some coffee."  Harry beamed and bounded down the stairs, yelling for Garon to start coffee and hot chocolate.

Severus slunk down the stairs moments later fully dressed.  "Well, go on boy, they're not going to get any bigger."  Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed all his presents, and one of them shifted indignantly.  Severus smirked as Harry carefully undid the blue bow and pulled the top off of the box.  Eyes wide, young Harry reached in and pulled out a pure white kitten with deep amber eyes.  He looked up to his uncle for explanation.

"You will need something to take to Hogwarts next year.  Everyone has an owl, and the only person you'd be in contact with is me anyhow, and I'll be at the school."  Harry jumped up, kitten and all, and hugged his uncle.

"Thank you!  He's beautiful!  I think I'll name him…Archimedes!" Harry exclaimed, recalling a name from his magic history studies.

"A very suitable name.  Here, I'll take him while you open your presents."

"But then you won't be able to open yours," Harry pointed out.  Severus rolled his eyes slightly and set the cat on the floor as Harry handed him a rather odd-shaped box.  Upon opening it, Severus found an array of pre-prepared potions ingredients.

"The Headmaster helped me prepare some of them.  They're really common ingredients, but they're the only ones I'm allowed to touch.  So I prepared them for you so you don't have to spend time doing it yourself."

"Thank you, Harry.  This was obviously a thought-out gift.  Now, if you're done with yours?" he gestured to the mounds of paper that had revealed books and a whole new quill and parchment set for school next year, not to mention a few pairs of slacks and new boots.

"Yes, thank you for them.  I needed new pants anyhow," he looked down at his sweatpants, which were full of holes and covered in stains.

"Quite.  However, you do have one last present out back."  Harry jumped to his feet and scooped up the kitten, following his uncle obediently.  As soon as the back door was opened, Harry dropped the cat and ran over to the broomstick.

"A Comet Three Sixty?!  Why?  How?  When?"  So many questions filled his mind, and he didn't know which to ask first.

"You will be receiving flying lessons next year, but I see no reason why you shouldn't have some experience beforehand.  But you are only allowed to fly during the day, and then only when I am watching you."  Harry nodded dumbly, and Severus wasn't entirely sure he was paying attention anymore.  Severus spent the rest of the day teaching Harry the basics of flying, and even let him hover for a few moments.

"Can I fly tomorrow?" Harry asked eagerly as he snuggled down into his blankets.  Severus turned out the lights and smiled as Harry's eyes focused on the night sky above him.

"We'll see."  Archimedes jumped up into the bed and curled up on Harry's pillow.  Harry smiled and softly stroked the cat until he fell asleep.  Severus shut the door and made his way downstairs, insuring that the broom was safely kept away in the hall closet.

Harry awoke early the next morning.  He looked out his window over the snowy white grounds.  _It's a beautiful day for flying, he thought happily as he pulled on a winter cloak and toboggan.  He raced down the stairs, careful to not make too much noise, and opened the broom closet.  Grinning ear to ear, he pulled it down slowly, not wanting to knock over his uncle's._

"I'll take it for a quick spin.  He'll never even know."  He glanced at the clock, noting it was about 5 o'clock in the morning, and grinned.  He could be back in bed even before Garon woke up.

Harry mounted the broom and kicked off, hovering for moment.  After a few seconds, he pushed himself a little higher, then leaned forward.  The broom responded to his every command, and soon, he was zooming up and over the house.  He made an abrupt turn, marveling at the unique feeling flying gave him.  The cold winter air bit his face, but he didn't seem to notice as he flew faster and higher.

Archimedes watched his master from the kitchen window, a deeply troubled feeling rising up in him.  Something bad was going to happen, and he bolted up the stairs and into the master bedroom.  Quickly, he jumped up on the bed, landing squarely on the man's chest.

Harry was having the time of his life.  He'd never felt so free before, and his love for flying was quickly overshadowing all others.  Suddenly, a strong gust of wind caught his cloak, and he slipped from the broom.  Thinking quickly, he reached up, grabbing the broom in a last effort to keep from falling off.

"Go away blasted cat!  It is too early.  Tell Harry to let you out if you have to go."  Severus pushed the feline onto the floor, but Archimedes persisted, and Severus sat up to glare at the cat.

Harry looked down, but an early morning fog had begun to roll over the grounds.  He could not see the ground beneath him, but he guessed he had about fifty feet to fall if he slipped.   He could feel his hands going numb, and he silently prayed that his uncle would come outside now.  He didn't care about getting in trouble; he just wanted to live to see Hogwarts.  Tears poured down his face as he realized he could no longer hold on.  With one last grab for the broom, he dropped…and landed in the pool.

The splash from the backyard woke Severus from his drowsy trance.  Without so much as putting on slippers he raced out to the kitchen and threw open the back door.  To his horror, he saw Harry flailing in the ice cold water of the pool.  Pulling his wand, he pointed it out at the boy and pulled him from the freezing pool.  Tearing his night cloak off, he wrapped it around the now-unconscious boy and ran to the fireplace, grabbing Floo powder with his free hand.

"Emergency!  St. Mungo's!" he yelled, and immediately he was whisked away.  He landed in the emergency room where a Healer was already waiting.

"What's happened?"

"He fell into the pool."

"It's freezing out!"

"Which is why he is blue and shivering!" Snape snapped at the man.  The Healer helped Severus put the boy onto a stretcher and walked with him, discreetly smoothing the boy's hair over the scar so passers-by would not see.  As soon as they entered the private care facility, Severus was pushed back by a nurse.

"You've done all you can, Professor.  Please go wait in the common area."  Using his size against her, he stepped forward.

"I will not leave his side until I am sure he is alright.  I have a responsibility to that boy."

"Is he a student?" she asked worriedly.

"No, he is my nephew and—"

"Dear Merlin!  It's Harry Potter!" the Healer exclaimed.  Severus pulled his wand and placed a silencing charm around the room.

"What I am about to say does not leave this room, understood?"  Everyone nodded as they worked on Harry.  "Yes, that boy is Harry Potter, who also happens to be my nephew.  No one is to know of our relation or where he is until he begins school next year at Hogwarts, where he is safe."  Again, they nodded, and Severus lowered his wand.

From the side, he watched in horror as they removed water from the boy's lungs.  Severus could have sworn the lungs had been full by the time they were finished.  A heating charm, coupled with a few anti-shock potions, pulled the boy's temperature back to normal.

The Healer sighed and removed his gloves, walking over to Severus.  "We pulled a lot of water out, as you can see, and his temperature was well below normal.  We've stabilized him, but his is blood pressure is still very low, so we're going to keep him here for a few days to monitor him.  I expect we can release him Saturday."  Severus nodded his understanding throughout the speech, and when the Healer was done, he followed the nurses out to Harry's room.

He threw his cloak on the back of the chair and sat down next to the bed, watching his nephew.  The nurse smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"If you need anything, just ring for an elf," she instructed him.  He nodded again, though his eyes remained focused on the boy lying unconscious in the bed.

"When will he wake?" he asked softly.

"It is…hard to say.  We gave him a rather large dosage of Shock Reducer potion, so I wouldn't expect him to be awake until tomorrow.  There's a cafeteria down the hall here to your right, and a firecall system to your left."  With that, she left, and Severus scooted his chair closer, grasping the boy's hand.

"Foolish boy," he chided softly, "You'll be a Gryffindor yet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_The following September…_

"I don't know why I couldn't just go to the school with him," an 11-year old Harry Potter mumbled under his breath.  He sat back in the plush compartment of the Hogwarts Express, his beloved Quidditch book in his lap.  He watched out the window as children scrambled to say goodbye to their loved ones.  He didn't know anyone, but he was fine entertaining himself with a Quidditch book and Archimedes.  The white cat was currently curled atop the seat across from him, purring contentedly.

The compartment door opened and three red-headed boys bustled in.   The twins stopped short at the sight of him, and the other gaped openly.

"Blimey!  Harry Potter!  Do you mind?"  One of the twins gestured to the open seat.  Harry shrugged and the youngest sat down next to him.

"Ron, we're going to the front of the train.  Lee's got a giant tarantula.  You'll be fine here."  Harry watched as they clapped their younger brother on the back and took off.  Ron's mouth remained agape, and Harry was beginning to get slightly annoyed.

"Ron, was it?" the boy nodded, "Could you please not stare at me?  It's a little disconcerting."  The boy promptly snapped his mouth shut and turned his head.  Archimedes jumped down from the seat and up into Harry's lap, looking intently at Ron.  Something inside Ron's pocket gave a sharp squeak and Harry could see his shirt moving.

The boy grabbed an old rat from his pocket, attempting to calm it down.  "This is Scabbers, my rat.  Percy made prefect, so Mum and Dad bought him an owl, and I got him."  Harry nodded and stroked the cat.

"No, Archimedes, down."  The cat mewed and jumped off his owner's lap, returning to his bed.  Ron stuffed Scabbers back into his pocket and turned to Harry.

"So, which team do you follow?" he asked, gesturing to the book in the other boy's hand.  Harry's heart leapt with the prospect of talking about Quidditch with someone his own age.  He shut the book and turned in his seat.

"I've always liked Puddlemere.  They seem to know how to balance the Chasers and the Beaters to have the ultimate team."

"No way!  The Chudley Cannons are the best team ever."

"They might be able to contend if they could get a good Keeper.  But if Johansen keeps missing the Quaffle, they'll never get far," Harry countered.  They continued to argue good naturedly until the door slid open.  A young girl with bushy brown hair stood at the opening.

"Have either of you seen a toad?  A boy named Neville's lost one."  They shook their heads and she continued on her way, shoving past a blonde-haired boy, who quickly took her place at the door.

"I heard Harry Potter was in here," he said bluntly.  He looked down at Ron and sniffed, as if smelling something horrid.  "Well, it's not you," he said nastily, sticking his hand out to Harry.  "I'm Draco Malfoy, perhaps you've heard of me?"  He sounded so very certain that everyone had heard of him that he didn't even notice Ron's look.  Harry stood, taking the boy's hand politely, but briefly.

"Yes, I believe Uncle Severus has mentioned your father's name in passing.  Lucius, wasn't it?"  The boy nodded, obviously pleased with himself.  He gave Ron a look, clearly stating he should leave, but Harry beat him to the punch.  "If you'd like to join us, we were discussing Quidditch."  Harry shooed Archimedes off of the seat, but Draco took a step back.

"I do not associate with Weasleys, Potter, and you shouldn't either."  Draco seemed as if he were trying to reason with Harry, but the dark-haired boy's eyes narrowed.

"If you're going to be a prat, Malfoy, then you can leave."  The aristocratic boy gave a sneer and turned on his heel, storming out in fury.  Ron simply stared at Harry in awe.

"That was wicked, Harry!  My dad says Malfoy is a bully at work; like father like son I guess."

Harry looked out the window, noticing the ever-darkening sky.  "We should get changed; we'll be there soon."  Ron nodded, and they shut the compartment door, quickly pulling on their robes.  Harry's stomach clenched as he realized the Sorting was just a few moments away.  He honestly didn't know what house he would be in, but he hoped that whichever it was, his uncle would be proud.

The train pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade and Harry filed out with Archimedes in his arms.  He carefully placed the cat in his cage, to be taken up with the rest of his things to whatever dormitory he was to be in.  His uncle had told him about the staff, so he wasn't at all surprised to see a rather large man, Hagrid if he remembered, greeting them at the train.

"Firs' years, this way!  This way to the boats!"  Harry walked down a path and jumped into a boat with Ron.  They were joined by two other boys, one tall black boy, another shorter, with dark hair.

"I'm Dean Thomas, and this is Seamus Finnegan," the black boy introduced.  Harry took the boy's hand firmly and nodded at his friend.

"This is Ron Weasley, and I'm Harry Potter."  Their eyes flickered to his forehead before looking down embarrassedly.

"You'll get yer firs' look at Hogwarts in a momen'!" Hagrid called from the lead boat, breaking the uneasy tension in Harry's.  They floated around a bend, and everyone gasped at the sight of the castle, illuminated by the moonlight.  It seemed so huge, even from out on the lake, that Ron thought he might get lost just by looking at it.

_It's__ larger than Uncle Severus described, Harry thought wondrously._

As they docked, the children piled out of the boats, huddling together around Hagrid, lest they get lost.  As they followed the giant man up a case of stairs, and into the castle.  After leading them to a large door, he turned.

"Wait here, please," he instructed, and he walked off inside, through another door.  As they waited, Harry took the opportunity to look around and get a good look at his classmates.  As expected, most of them were trying not to stare at him, and failing horribly.  He sighed and turned back around as a stern-looking witch emerged with a scroll.  From the talks he'd overheard between his uncle and the Headmaster, Harry deduced that this was Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress.  His nerves were so shot that he didn't hear a word she said about the houses or points.  Only when Ron nudged him did he focus in on her speech.

"Now, form a line and follow me."

Once, several years ago, Harry had been allowed to watch the sorting from the small staff room on the side of the Great Hall.  It had seemed so simple then: sit on the stool, put on the Hat, walk to your table.  But now, Harry found it was the most difficult thing he had ever had to face.

Professor McGonagall left them in a small room, crowded around each other, as she made sure the Hall was ready.  As they stood there, white-translucent shapes began to swarm around them.  As Harry looked closer, he recognized the ghosts of Hogwarts.  Though he heard about them many times from his uncle ("That damn poltergeist!" or "The Bloody Baron thinks _he's the Head of Slytherin House."), seeing them in person was most disturbing.  He shied back as one of them came near him, studying him curiously.  It looked as if it were about to say something when McGonagall came back._

"We're ready for you now."  She began leading them, and as Harry walked through the doors, his eyes lit upon the ceiling.  It looked as if the night sky were intruding upon the roof; the stars twinkled and the clouds rolled, as if greeting the students upon their return to the school.

"It's not real, the ceiling," Hermione told him quietly.  "It's just bewitched to look like the sky outside."

"I know," Harry returned, "My uncle did something similar to my ceiling when I was six.  I love Astronomy, so Uncle Severus charmed my ceiling to reflect the night's stars.  They shift and change as the earth rotates and revolves."  Hermione nodded, smiling at him.  The congregation stopped as they reached the table, and Harry looked briefly up at his uncle.

His thoughts were interrupted by a new voice, singing a song of the school.  Harry focused on the hat, watching as some of the other first years stared in awe.  Harry listened as each house was described, and finally realized it hadn't mentioned a house for the faint of heart.  Taking deep breaths, Harry began to calm himself, and the sick feeling in his stomach dissipated somewhat.  After a questioning glance from his uncle, Harry nodded and refocused his attention on Professor McGonagall.

"Now, when I call your name, you will come up here, I will place the Sorting Hat on your head, and it will tell you to which house you belong."  Harry noticed some of the other first years sighing with relief, and even heard Ron exclaim from behind him.

"That's it!  Fred was going on about wrestling a troll!"  Harry snorted silently, waiting patiently for his name to be called.

"Hannah Abbot!"  The hat was placed atop her head where it seemed to be contemplating something.  Before long, the Hat yelled to the whole Hall.

"Hufflepuff!"  One of the tables gave a cheer as she ran to join them.

"Susan Bones!"  Again, the Hat waited only a moment before crying out.

"Hufflepuff!"

And so it went, through the alphabet.  The bushy-haired girl was sorted into Gryffindor, and Malfoy into Slytherin.  Finally, the witch looked at him.

"Harry Potter!"  Severus shifted a little in his seat, sitting up higher to get a better look.  Harry swallowed and made his way to the stool, ignoring the whispers that were rippling through the Hall.  Everyone was craning their necks to get a look at him, and he shut his eyes when the Hat was placed over his head.

**_Potter!_****_  My my, I was wondering when I'd get to sort you.  Tricky one, you are.  Let's see…hmm...  I see you want to please your uncle, but you don't want to disappoint the memory of your parents either.  Hmm, but where to put you?_**

_Everyone expects me to be in Gryffindor because of my parents, or Slytherin because of my uncle._

**_Yes, but it is not up to them now is it?  You are cunning, yes, and a quick thinker.  Brave, yes, but not overly so.  I think you'll do well in…_**

"Ravenclaw!"  Cheers and surprised gasps filled the room as Harry hopped down from the stool, steadying his shaking knees.  He walked slowly to the Ravenclaw table and sat down.  Hermione turned around in her seat and patted him on the back, and he smiled gratefully at her.  Terry Boot, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw first, clapped him on the shoulder.

"Welcome Harry!"  Harry nodded at the blonde-haired boy, thanking him quickly.  Finally, Blaise Zabini made her way to the Slytherin table, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood, raising his hands.

"I have a few start of term announcements to make.  First, students note that the Dark Forest is off limits.  Second, the caretaker, Filch, would like me to remind you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is strictly forbidden to anyone who does not wish to die a most painful death."  A few small chuckles emitted around the room, but Harry stared at Terry, who shrugged.  "And finally, I leave you with these words.  Nitwit!  Blubber!  Oddment!  Tweak!"

Harry raised a questioning eye at his uncle at the Head Table before piling his plate with food.  The evening was filled with the older years explaining the house rules and usual first year classes.

Conversation stopped suddenly as everyone around Harry stared at a place somewhere above and behind him.  He turned to see a mass of black robes and he grinned.

"Mr. Potter, a word with you after the feast?"  Harry nodded respectfully and Snape swept off, leaving everyone in silence.

"What do you suppose he wants Harry?"  Harry shrugged.

"He probably wants to congratulate me and introduce me to the teachers," Harry replied simply.  The older students gaped at him, and spluttered out a question.

"You do know that that's Professor Snape?  Head of Slytherin House, Potions Master, and –"

"And my uncle," Harry finished, before they could insult him.  "You don't have to like him at all, but do not insult him in front of me."  They all nodded and turned back to their food, their minds tumbling over this new information.

Harry stood, excusing himself, and made his way out the door.  Before he reached the main hall, Severus stepped out of the shadows.  Harry grinned and followed the professor silently down to his office.  Once inside, he sat down behind his desk and Harry made himself comfortable in the chair.

"First of all, Harry, congratulations.  I think you really threw some of them off."  Harry beamed, looking down at his Ravenclaw badge.  "Harry, a few things have changed now that you are at Hogwarts.  You will see me more often, now that you are here, and we will still go home on some holidays, like Christmas.  However, we will be here on weekends, not at the manor."

"Can I tell them?"  There was no question as to what he was referring, and Severus sighed.

"Harry listen to me.  You are my nephew, and I am very proud of you.  But please, don't go around flaunting that fact.  Many people will be shocked at first, and perhaps some downright angry.  I will look out for you best I can, but I expect you to stay out of trouble this year."

"Yes, sir.  But what if someone insults you?"

"Ignore them, or if it's bad enough, tell me.  I won't lie; most of the students do not like me.  I am not an easy professor, and I tend to favor Slytherins.  But you do understand, don't you?"  Harry nodded.

"Yes sir, you've explained.  The rest of the world thinks Slytherins are all evil, so they treat them bad."

"Badly," Severus corrected.

"Yeah, badly.  But they're not, and sometimes you have to favor them because no one else will."  Severus nodded approvingly.

"Quite right, Harry.  Now come, I will take you to the dormitory."  As they exited, Severus explained to him what the first week of classes would be like, and even showed him some of the classrooms on their way.

"The Ravenclaw dormitories are behind a suit of armor on the fourth floor.  Of course, your nearest the library."

"What about the other dorms?"  Severus smirked.

"You don't need to worry about them.  You will not enter another house's dormitories unless specifically invited by a member of that house."  Harry nodded as they reached the knight.  The armored head shifted to look at them expectantly, and Severus lifted his head.

"Professor Severus Snape, requesting the password for Mr. Harry Potter, first year Ravenclaw."  The knight's head shifted down to look at Harry, then back up at the professor.

"_Acutum_,"  The knight nodded and stepped out, bowing before the entrance.  Harry smiled at the professor before entering.  "Good night Harry.  I'll see you at breakfast."

"Good night Professor Snape."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you again to all the reviewers.  You are too many to name, but I will address a few questions.

Hermione is in Gryffindor, as clarified in this chapter.  The Gryffindor table is next to the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, so she merely turned around in her seat to congratulate him.

I wanted to do something different, but also sort of the same.  Harry in Ravenclaw fits this bill.  There will still be a "Golden Trio," though it's not going to be Ron.

Ravenclaw gives me a chance to develop what would normally be undeveloped characters.  We'll get to meet those that have not often been explored.  Also, I'm looking at a future H/H relationship, but I'm still quite unsure about that.  I don't much like Cho, but if there's enough uprising about H/H, then I'll consider another girl somewhere down the line.

Thanks for reading.  Here's the next installment!

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Harry awoke the next morning feeling happy and alive.  He jumped out of bed, noting that he had about a half hour until breakfast, and gathered his things for a shower.  Archimedes mewed indignantly for having been jostled from his sleep, but curled up in Harry's former place, soaking up the boy's warmth.

Harry emerged in his Ravenclaw robes, noting for the first time the other three boys in the room.  He recognized Terry in the bed next to his, but the other two were unfamiliar.  He shook Terry's shoulder carefully, calling the boy's name.

"Hmm?" the boy mumbled from his pillows.

"It's nearly time for breakfast.  We'll be late if you don't hurry," Harry said.  Terry sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"We?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah, we.  Now come on."  Harry smiled as he pulled the other boy out of bed.  Terry smirked and motioned for Harry to be quiet.  He picked up his pillow and tiptoed over to the bed on the other side of the room.  Harry quickly followed suit, grabbing his from under Archimedes.

"On the count of three," Terry whispered, and raised his pillow over his head.  Harry did the same, and upon the boy's whisper of "Three!" they slammed the pillows down on the lumps under the sheets.  Two cries of annoyance rose from the blankets, and two heads poked out from underneath the covers.

"What was that for?" a small bespectacled boy asked.  Harry merely shrugged and pointed at Terry, who immediately threw his pillow back at him.

"Traitor!" he yelled, and the pillow fight was on.  Harry had never had as much fun in his life.  By the end, they were all tired, their sides hurt from all the laughing, and they all had ten minutes to get ready.  Harry waited for Terry, and they walked to the Great Hall together.

"So, Harry, what classes do you think are going to be the best?" Terry asked.

"I don't know, I kind of like Transfiguration and Charms.  I like wand-work, I think it's neat," Harry replied.  Terry shook his head, and Harry gave him a questioning look.

"Nothing, Harry, it's just I thought you would be into Potions and stuff.  You know, your uncle being who he is."  Harry laughed with him as they entered the Great Hall.

"Truthfully, I get enough of potions at home.  Either hearing about it, or helping Uncle Sev – I mean Professor Snape.  Sometimes he let me fix up the non-dangerous ingredients."  They sat down at the table, their plates immediately filling with eggs, bacon, and toast.  Harry looked up to see the bushy-haired girl walk through the door, alone.  He smiled and waved at her.  She gave him a small, sad smile, waving back a little.  She looked around at the Gryffindor table, trying to figure out a place to sit.  Ron was talking animatedly with Seamus and Dean, and the girls were giggling uncontrollably at something.

"Hey, Terry, you mind if she joins us?" Harry asked, gesturing to the girl.  Terry shrugged, diving into his food.  Harry beamed and stood, waving her over.

"Oy!  You can sit with us if you like," he told her.  She looked around, unsure, and Harry sat back down, scooting over to make room for her.  "Don't worry, inter-house mingling is actually encouraged," he explained.  "I'm Harry Potter, by the way, and this is Terry Boot."

"Please," Terry grimaced, "My mother insisted on naming me after my great-uncle.  I hate that name.  I go by Colt."

"Colt?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's short for Colton, my middle name."  Harry nodded as the girl sat next to him.

"Hermione Granger," she said shortly, her plate filling up.  "I wanted to be in Ravenclaw, but the hat put me in Gryffindor."  She sounded almost disappointed.  "I've read all of our textbooks; do you think once is enough?  I might go over the Transfiguration book again; I simply find it fascinating."  Harry nodded, chewing his eggs thoughtfully.

"I think Transfiguration will be a great class.  I want to be an Animagus," Harry said.

"Do you know any?" Colt asked, his attention now fully on Harry.

"Well, no, I just think it would be cool.  I mean, that _has to be useful right?  Being able to change into an animal?"_

"But it's dangerous," Hermione put in, "You're not even supposed to study it until you graduate."  Harry smiled wryly.

"Aw, come on Hermione, it would be fun though.  And I'm sure I can get us special passes to the library from my uncle.  We are Ravenclaws, after all."  Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think it's wise, Harry.  I mean, what if we get caught?"

"We?" Harry asked, turning to her.  She blushed slightly and looked down at her plate.

"Well, I thought that…maybe since you invited me over here, that we could be sort of friends?"  She seemed most uncertain, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"So much for Gryffindor courage," he mumbled loudly enough for her to hear.  Her eyes widened as she scoffed huffily, until he smiled charmingly.  "I was only joking, Hermione.  Of course you're our friend."  He was going to continue when a rather short wizard appeared behind them.

"Your timetables," he said, handing Harry and Colt a sheet of parchment.  He looked at Hermione and frowned, noting the badge on her robes.  "Miss Granger, I believe?" she nodded.  "You should be over there," he said, pointing to the table next to him.  Harry cleared his throat.

"I invited her over, Professor.  I didn't want her sitting by herself."  The man squeaked happily and scuttled off, delivering timetables as he went.  As Professor McGonagall passed by, she dug through her stack.

"Miss Granger, Professor Flitwick said you were over here.  Here is your timetable."  She smiled at Harry and continued on her way.  Harry looked over and compared his to hers.

"Well, this isn't so bad," he said.  "We have Potions and Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts with you, and Herbology and History of Magic with the Slytherins."

"What elective did you sign up for, Harry?" Colt asked.

"Astronomy, I love it."

"I have it as well," Hermione said.  "When I get to third year, though, I'm going to take Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures."  Harry cringed.

"Arithmancy?  My uncle said that's a difficult class.  Even he didn't take it while he was here."

"Hey, Harry, we'd better get going," Colt said, standing with his bag.  "We have Potions first thing."  Harry nodded, gulping down his pumpkin juice.  "See you around Hermione!" Colt called, and she waved back.

"See you in Charms!" Harry called, waving.

"Bye Harry, Colt!"  She sighed and finished her meal.  For once in her life, she was eager to get classes over with so she could write home to her parents.

Harry and Colt entered the Potions classroom and took a seat near the front.  Hannah Abbot smiled shyly at him from the table beside them, and he smiled back awkwardly.  As they were setting up their cauldrons, the door burst open.

"You will not need your wands for this class, and there will be no silly incantations to mutter.  I am charged with teaching you the exact science and art of potion-making.  Not many are adept at this field, so I don't expect to see many of you beyond your fifth year.  But until that time, you will listen and do exactly as I say, for the consequences will be dire for those who do not."  The entire class was riveted to their seats, both scared and intrigued at the foreboding man.  Harry swallowed hard, forcing the lump to return to his stomach.  He desperately hoped his uncle did not pick on him.  "Now, let us see who has been reading their texts."  He looked down at the roll, then back up at the class.

"Mr. Boot, tell me, where would you look if I asked you to find a bezoar?"  Colt sat up in his chair, casting a quick sidelong glance at Harry.

"In the stomach of a goat, sir," he answered shortly.  Snape merely nodded and looked back down at the roll.

"Miss Bones, please name two properties of elderberries."

"Sir, elderberries are a red, sweet-smelling berry found in most parts of Central Europe and, uh," she paused for a moment before continuing, "They can cause illness if prepared improperly."  Snape raised an elegant eyebrow at her, sighing to himself.  

"Mr. Potter, what is the difference in wolfsbane and monkshood?"  Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he stared blankly at his uncle.  _I know this one…where have I seen the word monkshood?  Yes!  Uncle Severus' wolfsbane potion!_

"They are the same thing, Professor," he answered, almost smiling.  Though Snape merely nodded and continued checking the roll, Harry could have sworn he'd seen a proud look thrown his way.

"You will not be making potions today," Snape finally said, turning to the board.  "Open your texts to page seven and begin reading through page 24."  Harry sighed and opened up his book, noticing Colt's exasperated look; they had both read the chapter last night.

After potions, Harry slowly packed up his things, whispering to Colt to go ahead of him.  As he planned, he was the last one remaining, and Professor Snape smirked knowingly.

"I see you're getting along well," he commented, moving to sit on the edge of his desk.

Harry beamed at him, "Yeah, Colt is really cool, and Hermione seems okay."

"She's a Gryffindor, correct?"

"Yeah, but she wanted to be a Ravenclaw.  Maybe she should have told the hat."

"Harry, the hat doesn't listen to you; it sees who you really are and puts you where you belong.  Now run along, you have classes."

"See you at lunch, Uncle."  Severus nodded as the door shut, and he returned to his office, preparing for his next class:  first year Slytherin/Gryffindors.

Harry and Colt met up with Hermione in Charms, and they took seats near the front.  As they were discussing their first classes, the small wizard from breakfast hopped upon a pile of books and began calling out the roll.  When he reached Harry's name, he let out an excited squeak and tumbled down onto the floor.  

They went to lunch, talking animatedly about Charms and how Hermione had almost mastered the wrist movement.  Harry dug out his timetable, noting that they had Herbology this afternoon, and asked Hermione how to get to the green houses.

"I think Herbology is interesting, but it should really be more of an elective.  Neville seems really good at it though."  Colt swallowed his turkey sandwich and scrunched his face up.

"Neville?  As in Longbottom?"  Hermione nodded.  "I knew him in primary.  He didn't show his magical talent until he was almost ten!  Everyone thought he was a Squib for the longest time."

"What happened?" Harry asked, but Colt shrugged.

"I remember him talking about bouncing into the street, but I don't know much more than that."  Harry and Colt waved goodbye to Hermione as she headed to History of Magic.

Finally, Friday came, and Harry and Colt sauntered into the Great Hall for lunch happily and proudly.  They were about to brag about how they hadn't gotten lost once today when they saw Hermione's glistening eyes and distraught face.  Harry sat down next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

"That horrid Potions Master!" she fumed, "He took ten points from Ron Weasley because Neville's cauldron melted, just because Ron didn't tell him not to add the porcupine quills!  It wasn't even Ron's fault!"  Harry grimaced and removed his hand.

"Hermione," he looked around, making sure no one was within hearing range.  "Uncle Severus doesn't mean to be cruel.  He has to keep up appearances, especially in front of the Slytherins.

"But he favors them horribly!" she cried, not realizing what Harry had called the potions master.

"I know, but for good reason.  You see, most of the wizarding world view Slytherins as evil; they're not!  It's not the house, but the choice, that makes the wizard evil.  Uncle has to favor them because no one else will."

"Wait a minute! Uncle?  _He's your uncle?  Oh, Harry, I'm sorry!  I didn't realize!"  She covered her mouth with her hand._

"It's alright, Hermione.  I'm sure I'll hear much worse things about him over the next seven years.  Just don't go around telling people he's my uncle.  He doesn't want me to endure too much."  Hermione nodded, miming locking her mouth with a key and throwing it aside.  They ate in relative silence after that, only discussing classes, and upcoming Quidditch trials.

"I wish they'd let first years try.  I'd bet I could make a wicked Beater!" Colt was bragging on their way out to their flying lesson.  This was the only class that all the first years had together, on Friday afternoon.  The three were some of the first to arrive, having only been beaten by a few Slytherins.

"Well, if it isn't Saint Potter!" a young voice drawled.  Harry turned to face Malfoy, who was flanked by two large boys that Harry remembered from the sorting.  Harry raised an eyebrow in recognition, but otherwise ignored Malfoy.  "Imagine, the Savior of the World, not in Gryffindor.  What would Mummy and Daddy think?"  The two goons sniggered into their hands, more out of habit than having gotten the joke.  Colt leaned into Harry.

"You're just going to let him rag you like that?" he asked incredulously.  Harry merely nodded and gestured with his head at the approaching teacher.  But Malfoy hadn't seen her, and kept on.

"Poor, poor Potter.  Can only find friends in bookworms and –"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch's voice rang out.  "Take your place beside a broom and keep quiet!"  The blonde boy sneered at Harry, but did as he was told as the rest of the first years joined them.  Madam Hooch instructed each of them next to a broom and took her place at the head of the lines.

"Now, hold your hand over your broomsticks, and say 'Up!'  Remember to be commanding."  Her pupils all did as they were told, and she was rather surprised when Potter's broom jumped into his hand immediately.

"Whoa, Harry!" Colt whispered.  "You're bloody good!"  He smiled and shrugged, not liking the added attention.  Hermione's took a few more tries, and Ron Weasley said it so forcefully, he whacked himself in the nose.  Finally, everyone had their broomsticks in hand, and Madam Hooch began instructing them on proper handling.  Harry joined the Gryffindors in snickering when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now," she said, returning to her place at the front, "When I blow my whistle, I want you to kick up from the ground hard, hover for a few moments, then settle back down on the ground by leaning forward slightly."  Harry tightened his grip, prepared to show everyone, especially Malfoy, just how good of a flyer he was.  Madam Hooch began her countdown, but before she reached one, Neville's broom took off.  Harry scowled at Malfoy and his cronies, who were hooting at the sight of Neville zipping uncontrollably through the air.  Finally, he slipped from his broom and fell to the ground with a sickening thud.  Harry remembered all too well his accident, and silently thanked Merlin that he had had a pool to land in, ice cold or not.

"Everyone is to remain on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing.  If I see a single broom in the air, the rider will find themselves out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'"  Harry watched them until they were inside the castle and Malfoy's voice pulled his attention around.

"Oh look, the big oaf dropped his precious trinket!" he crowed, stooping to pick up a small glass sphere that Harry recognized as a Remembrall.  Feeling a sudden surge of bravery, he stepped forward.

"Give it here, Draco.  That belongs to Neville."  Malfoy sneered at Harry and hopped upon his broom.

"No," he said haughtily as he lifted into the air, "I think I'll leave it on the roof for Longbottom to find."  He soared higher, finally turning to look down at the mass.  "What's wrong, Potter?  Too high for you?  I'll bet your _uncle told you not to break any rules or he'd wallop you."  The last of the logic his uncle had instilled in him vanished, and Harry mounted his broom.  Colt's eyes widened as he realized what Harry was planning, but Hermione beat him to it._

"Harry, no!  You heard Madam Hooch!  You'll be expelled!  Besides, this is the _first flying lesson, get it?"_

"I've flown before, Hermione.  Don't worry."  Harry brushed her off and lifted off the ground after Malfoy, surprising everyone with his grace in the air.  

"Now, give it back," Harry demanded, flying a little closer.  Draco smirked and raised his eyebrow elegantly.

"Fetch, Potter!" he yelled, hurling the little sphere as far as he could throw it.  Acting out of pure instinct he didn't know he possessed, he took off after the little ball.  He crouched low to his broom to minimize air resistance and pushed the Cleansweep to its limits.  He reached out his hand and snagged the ball just before it smashed against the wall, but lost his balance.  Thinking quickly, he grabbed the broom tightly and spun in a complete barrel roll,  landing upright and balanced mere inches away from the wall of the castle.  Too amazed to do anything else, he slowly began descending, barely registering when the crowd of students broke out into a cheer and began racing toward him.

Colt was patting him on the back, yelling about how wicked his little stunt was, when a voice rang out above the din.

"Harry Potter!"  Harry grimaced and turned to look at Professor McGonagall.  He handed the Remembrall to Ron and his broom to Colt as he followed the Deputy Headmistress into the castle.  His heart sunk as he thought about how disappointed his uncle was going to be.  It sunk even further when he realized he was never going to get to learn magic after today.  They approached a stone gargoyle, and McGonagall called out the password ("Sugar Quills").  The gargoyle hopped aside, and they ascended the staircase together, silently.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?" the Headmaster smiled merrily as Harry got his first good look at the venerable wizard's office.

"Mr. Potter was flying around without supervision, Headmaster.  Madam Hooch would not have left them without instructions."  Harry cleared his throat.

"Actually, Ma'am, she said that no one was to be in the air, or we'd be expelled."  She narrowed her eyes at him, but remained silent.  The Headmaster called for two house elves to deliver messages to Professors Snape and Flitwick.

"Why my uncle, Headmaster?  Isn't expulsion enough?"  The Headmaster's eyes twinkled with merriment at the statement, but McGonagall huffed.

"You'd do better to be a bit more respectful of your elders."

"Minerva, the boy meant no disrespect.  Surely you of all people know of Severus'…shall we say discipline?"  She pursed her lips as Snape and Flitwick entered, and upon seeing Harry, Severus cast a cold glare at the boy.

"What have you done, young man?" he demanded.

"He was riding his broom without supervision, Professor," McGonagall proffered, "_after_ Madam Hooch instructed them not to."  Harry suddenly became very interested in his shoes until Severus strode forward and lifted his chin.

"Explain," he ordered, his voice low and deadly.  Harry swallowed as his uncle released him and launched into his tale.

"Neville, Longbottom that is, accidentally took off before Madam Hooch blew her whistle.  He didn't mean to, it just kind of took off without his say so.  Anyway, he finally fell and broke his wrist, so Madam Hooch took him to the Hospital Wing.  He had dropped his Remembrall, so Malfoy picked it up and took off into the air.  He said he was going to leave it on the roof, so I went after him.  Only he threw it, and I don't know, some instinct told me to fly after it, so I did."

"Did you catch it?" the Headmaster asked merrily.

"Yes, but I almost hit the wall.  I had to roll over to keep from falling."  A couple of gasps followed his statement, and his uncle loomed over him.

"Did last December teach you nothing?  Do you want to end up back in St. Mungo's for a week?"  Harry shook his head, forcing himself to keep his head up.  Nothing annoyed his uncle so much as not looking him in the eye when spoken to.  Flitwick squeaked and jumped on a chair.

"Professor, did you not hear him?  The boy has talent!"  Severus rounded on the small wizard.

"That does not matter!  What matters is he broke school policy and endangered himself."

"And he shall be punished, Severus," came the Headmaster's voice, "But you cannot deny that the boy does possess James' talent."  Harry's brow furrowed as he thought about the Headmaster's words.  He knew his father had played for Gryffindor, but he was a Chaser.

"Sir?" Harry finally managed.

"Dear boy, your father was an extraordinary Quidditch player.  Though he loved his position, no one could deny is overall talent.  The truth is, he could have played any position just as well."  Harry noticed Professor McGonagall hiding a proud smile, and it took all his effort not to smile too.  "Now, you will serve a week's detention for breaking the school rule, and I'm sure Severus will see to it that Mr. Malfoy gets his punishment as well."  Severus nodded curtly, though his eyes remained focused on Harry.

"However," the Headmaster continued happily, "With the permission of his Head of House, I would like to propose that Harry try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"But Headmaster!  First years are not allowed!" McGonagall cried.

"The boy has talent, Minerva, and he is currently excelling in all his classes.  I think he will do well as the Ravenclaw Seeker."  Professor Flitwick squeaked at this and smiled at Harry proudly.  And though still angry with the boy for his foolish stunt, Severus couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his nephew.

"I suppose you would never forgive me for disallowing it," Severus said, turning to Harry.  "But mind you, one slip in your classes, and I shall pull you off immediately."  Harry beamed at his uncle, nodding vigorously.  He stopped himself from wrapping his arms around the man's waist in glee and settled for beaming giddily.  "Well, no nephew of mine is going out there half-shod.  I shall buy you a broom, but it is to stay in my rooms, not in the dormitories with you, until next year."  This time, Harry couldn't contain himself, and he launched himself at the Potions Master.  Severus patted the boy on the back, then pushed him back by his shoulders.  "I shall see you have dinner, Harry.  Headmaster, Professors."  He acknowledged each of them before leaving to his classes.  McGonagall cast a scrutinizing eye at the boy before departing as well, and the Headmaster laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Professor Flitwick will escort you to your next class, Harry.  And congratulations."  Harry quickly thanked the wizard and scurried off with his Head of House to his DADA class.  Taking a seat in the back, his mind wandered to Quidditch and his new friends.  Harry decided that he definitely loved Hogwarts, almost as much as home.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to all again!  Not as long as the others, but as interesting hopefully.  I wanted to get it out on Halloween, but things kept piling up, and it didn't happen.  So here it is now.  ~ RG

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Harry's step was a bouncy one as he made his way to the dinner table.  Hermione and Colt eyed him warily as he sat down, grinning idiotically from ear to ear.  Harry whistled as he piled food on his plate, and gave a cheery hello to his friends.

"What's up with you, mate?  You seem…out of sorts."  Hermione shut her book and raised an eyebrow at her friend, seemingly as curious as Colt.  Harry finished his mouthful and smirked.

"Do you swear on Merlin's grave you won't tell a soul?" he prompted.  Colt dropped his fork and leaned in, his attention fully drawn to his friend.  Both he and Hermione nodded vigorously, and Harry nearly bounced in his seat.  He leaned in to whisper, so no one else would hear, "I'm the new Ravenclaw Seeker."  For a moment, they stared at him, dumbfounded, then Colt reached across and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Good one, mate!  But April is a ways off."  Harry sighed.

"I'm not joking!" he pressed.  "I really the new Ravenclaw Seeker.  Why else would I still be sitting here?  You heard Madam Hooch!  I should be expelled."

"Whoa Harry!  That's great!"

"Yeah, Harry, but you shouldn't let Quidditch take over.  I mean, classes are still important," Hermione put in, opening her book once more.

"I know, I've already been warned by Uncle.  But there's more!  He's getting me a new broom, probably that new Nimbus model."  Colt's eyes widened and his mouth hung open.

"I envy you, mate!  First years aren't allowed them!"

"I know, Uncle is going to keep it between practices and games.  I can't actually 'have' it until next year," Harry said, resuming his meal.  He was about to elaborate when screeching filled the halls.  _The Evening Prophet dropped into Hermione's lap, and Harry leaned over her shoulder as she read._

"Listen!" she whispered excitedly, "Gringott's was broken into last night!  'Believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown, the goblins insist nothing was taken.  The vault in question, number 713, had in fact been emptied earlier this month.'  That's odd, I didn't think one could get into Gringott's without the goblins."

"Harry, mate, are you alright?"  Colt had seen Harry's face go slack, as if he were trying to remember something.

"Earlier this month?" he repeated.  "I, erm, _overheard my uncle talking to the Headmaster.  Something about a 'package' that was delivered on the first.  He wanted to make sure it was in Hogwarts."  Hermione's brow furrowed._

"There's nothing to link them, Harry.  That could be something completely different."

"I know, I just have this gut feeling.  Besides, 713?  That's July 13th, right?  The Headmaster's birthday.  I remember we had a joint birthday this year, when I turned eleven, and my uncle and he had a private conversation then, too.  Very strange."  Colt rolled his eyes.

"I think you're looking too much into things, Harry.  Come on, let's go back and celebrate your making the team!"  Harry nodded, still thinking, but joined his friends in quiet celebration.

"It's Halloween mate!  How can you not be excited?" Colt was grinning as they made their way to the Feast.  Harry threw him an 'are you stupid?' look, and Colt stopped in his tracks.  "Sorry mate, I forgot.  I'm such an idiot."

"It's alright, I'm just not as excited about it as normal kids are, that's all.  I still like all the candy and toys we get."  They entered the Great Hall and took their normal places at the Ravenclaw table, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen.  Harry frowned and stood, walking over to Neville Longbottom.

"Hey Neville, have you seen Hermione?" he asked.  Neville swallowed and looked at him in awe, as if he couldn't believe Harry Potter was talking to him, of all people.  Harry raised an eyebrow impatiently, and Neville blushed.

"Parvati Patil said she won't come out of the girl's bathroom.  Says she's been in there all afternoon, crying."  Harry's eyes narrowed, and he beckoned for Colt to join them.

"Why is she crying, Neville?" Harry asked quietly.  For a moment, Colt was reminded a bit of Professor Snape, and he shuddered.  Neville seemed to pick up on it as well, and began stammering.

"Well, uh, you see, Ron said something, and she heard him, and now –"

"Wait," Harry held up a hand, "What did he say?"  Colt threw a quick look down the table at Ron, who was laughing at his brothers and Lee as their hair turned bright blue from a Halloween popper.

"I don't know, Harry, honestly.  I wou–"

"Troll!"  The whole of the hall looked up at Professor Quirrell burst through the doors, screaming like a madman.  "Troll in the dungeon!"  Dead silence reigned, and he managed to whisper before he fainted, "I thought you ought to know."

Chaos erupted as students began screaming and running for the exits.  It took many loud bangs from Dumbledore's wand to silence them.

"Silence!  Now, prefects will lead their houses back to their dormitories; teachers will come with me to the dungeon."  Harry and Colt were ushered out of the door by the Head Boy, but not before Harry noticed his uncle sneaking out the back way, not with the teachers.

Colt grabbed Harry's arm just before they reached the staircases.  "Harry!  Hermione doesn't know!"  Harry's eyes widened and he stopped.  As one, they turned and bolted for the girl's bathroom, but they stopped upon hearing a rather odd noise.  They hid as a large creature lumbered down the hall and through a door.

"The troll's in the bathroom!" Colt whispered fiercely.  Harry pulled his wand and stood.

"You go to the dungeons and tell the teachers!  I'll try to stall it!"  Without another word, they split, and Harry burst into the bathroom.

The troll was looming over Hermione, club in hand, ready to bring it down upon the girl.  Harry racked his brain for a useful spell, and thought back to his childhood.

_"Harold James Potter!"  An eight year old Harry turned, hiding the knife behind his back, and carefully stepping up to hide his project from view._

_"Yes, Uncle?" he asked innocently._

_"What do you think you are doing?  _Expelliarmus_!"_  Harry gasped as the knife flew from his hand and to his Uncle.  "I told you, you are not to be preparing ingredients without proper supervision.  Go upstairs while I decide your punishment!"__

Harry grinned and thrust his arm out, "_Expelliarmus__!"  The club whizzed out of the troll's hand just as it brought it down, and Harry had to duck to avoid getting knocked into the wall.  The troll turned, now confused, and set his beady eyes upon Harry.  Hermione scrambled backwards, against the wall, and began edging over to the door.  Harry saw her and began moving away from the door, turning the troll's back to her, so she could escape._

Hermione squeezed out of the door just as Colt came dashing up with the Headmaster and McGonagall.  "Harry's still in there!" she screamed.  "The troll's got him backed against a wall!"  Colt pulled her aside as they entered, and patted her on the back.

Harry nearly jumped for joy when the two professors entered and dispatched the troll.  His grin faded, however, when his uncle slammed through the door, nearly raving.

"Potter!  What in Merlin's name are you doing?"  Harry looked down, noticing his uncle's bloodied leg, but said nothing.  Instead, he gazed back up into the man's eyes, taking a deep breath to begin his story.  Colt and Hermione were hovering near the door, and Colt gave him a nod of encouragement.

"Well, we noticed Hermione wasn't at the Feast, so I asked Neville.  He said she was in here, and then Professor Quirrell came in yelling about the troll.  Well, we were on our way up to the dormitories, but then we remembered that Hermione was here, and she didn't know about the troll.  So we came down to tell her, but the troll was already here and coming in, so I told Colt to come get you and I came in here to try and distract it until you got here."  As he finished his tale, he noticed the twinkling smile from Dumbledore, and the pursed lips of McGonagall, but mostly, he was staring at his uncle, willing him to believe.

"You should have come to us at once," he finally said, "but I suppose something is to be said for your quick thinking."  The Headmaster clapped his hands together merrily.

"Most definitely," he admitted.  "Five points to Mr. Potter for his bravery and ingenuity.  Back to your dormitory, now.  We will take care of this."  He looked back down at the troll sadly.  Harry scooted past his uncle, accidentally brushing up against the man's leg.  Harry heard the faint hiss of pain, and threw a worried look back at him, but he only received a glare in return.  Colt grabbed his arm and hauled him away, and Hermione immediately hugged him.

"Thank you Harry!  Guess I'm not as brave as a Gryffindor should be."  She sounded a bit disappointed in herself, but Harry patted her back.

"Honestly, Hermione, we haven't learned any spells that would have been useful.  I'm just lucky I remembered that one from Uncle.  Besides, bravery isn't the only trait of Gryffindors."

"Yeah Hermione, like daring, nerve, and chivalry."  Colt did a near-perfect impression of the Sorting Hat, and the trio burst into laughter.  Harry gave the password, and the three clambered into the Ravenclaw common room.  Hermione liked this room, rather than her own.  It had bookshelves lining each wall other than the fireplace, but there were books on the mantle.  But mostly, it was because she had friends here, and she was rarely in her own common room.  Harry sat on the couch with Hermione, and Colt sat Indian style on the floor in front of them after grabbing a book from the mantle.

"Speaking of nerve," Harry said, sobering up, "What exactly did Ron Weasley say to you?"  Hermione's face hardened as her fists clenched.

"He was just being a childish prat because I told him how to perform a spell properly in Transfiguration.  He said I was a bossy know-it-all that didn't belong in Gryffindor."

"What?" Colt yelled, attracting the attention of a nearby study group.  "Sorry," he said sheepishly.  "Who does he think he is?  I'll bet he's just bitter about having to be here with his brothers.  I mean, my sister said Bill was Head Boy, and Charlie was Quidditch Captain, and now Percy is a prefect, and everyone likes Fred and George alright.  I'll bet he's just trying to raise his self-esteem.  Don't let it bother you, Hermione.  Besides, he wouldn't dare say anything in front of us, right Harry?"

"That's right, and if he says anything else, you can tell us.  Don't worry," he added at her look, "we won't go after him; we're not Slytherins.  He's harmless, anyhow, but if it's bad enough, the teachers will step in."  Colt nodded his approval as he read, but they could tell he really wasn't paying attention anymore.

"Hey Harry!" the Quidditch captain, Roger Davies, walked over to them with a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.  "Here's some food for you guys, since we got run out of the Great Hall.  The teachers dropped it off a couple of minutes ago.  Where were you?"

"Uh," Harry cast a sidelong glace at Hermione, "I had to talk to my uncle, and then Hermione joined us.  But thanks."  He took the tray and pitcher, and Hermione retrieved glasses for them all.  Colt accepted his sandwich without taking his eyes from the book, and began eating inadvertently.  Harry shook his head as Hermione began talking about classes, and at one point, she jumped up.

"I'm going to get my bag.  We can do our homework now."  Colt nodded dumbly, but remained glued to the page.  Harry chuckled and stood.

"I'll go with you.  I'd like to see the Gryffindor common room."  They checked the clock, noting it was well before curfew, and made their way to the portrait of the Fat Lady.  When they entered, Ron was playing chess with Seamus, who was losing horribly.  Hermione raced upstairs to get her bag while Harry looked around.  A few of them ogled his scar, but he pointedly ignored them and stared at the back of Ron's head.  Finally, the red-head turned around and waved.

"Hiya, Harry.  How are things in Ravenclaw?"  Harry frowned as he detected a bit of betrayal in the boy's voice, but he beckoned him over anyway.  Dean took his place across from Seamus, and Ron followed Harry to a corner of the common room.

"Hermione told me what happened in Transfiguration," Harry began, and noticed that Ron's ears were beginning to turn the shade of his hair.  "She'd kill me if she knew I was telling you this, but she was really upset.  Please apologize to her, Ron."

"Why does she have to be so bossy?" Ron returned indignantly, crossing his arms.

"Why do you have to be like Malfoy?  What you did was bullying, and I don't want to hear of it again.  You're better than that, Ron, you proved it to me on the train.  Just, apologize and stop behaving like a git."  Ron gaped at being compared to Malfoy, but became very interested in his shoes otherwise.

"Fine," he said finally, and returned to his game, taking two moves to put Seamus in checkmate.  Hermione bounded down the stairs, and Ron stood quickly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  Hermione glared at him as he stepped in front of her, but he cleared his throat and looked at her.

"Look…about earlier.  I was just frustrated that I couldn't get it, and well…I'm sorry."  He mumbled the last part, but she heard him and sighed.

"Apology accepted, thank you."  He nodded and went back to the couch, and Hermione left with Harry.  Only two words were said as they walked back to the Ravenclaw dorms, but they made Harry grin.

"Thanks, Harry."


	5. Chapter 5

Here is the next chapter.  I made it long to make up for the long wait.  Hopefully, I can finish up the first book in the next few chapters.  I'm not trying to rush, but I can fit a lot into one chapter if I really try.

The names of the Quidditch players was taken from _Harry Potter: Quidditch World Cup_.  It's a great game for the PS2.  I recommend it for all you Quidditch junkies out there.

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"Harry, there was an elf here a second ago, looking for you.  He said you should go to Professor Snape's office."  Harry sighed and dropped his bag on the ground.

"Well, I guess my homework will have to wait.  Later guys," he waved and exited again, much to the annoyance of the knight.

"I wish you kids would make up your minds!" he yelled after Harry, who ignored him and continued on down the hall.

Though curfew had not come yet, Harry was still quiet on his way to the dungeons.  Filch would gladly take any excuse to give him detention.  He made it to his uncle's office undisturbed, and he carefully knocked on the door.

"Come in," he heard the silky voice call, and Harry opened the door slowly.  It creaked on its hinges, and Harry suspected he kept it that way for a reason.  It was rather hard to sneak up on someone when the door announced your arrival.

"Ah, Harry, come sit down.  Would you like something to drink?"  Harry shook his head, now thoroughly confused.  His uncle was acting more like the Headmaster than himself.  "I came to tell you that your new broom has arrived, and I will give it to you the morning of your first game.  Which is only a week away, so you'd best prepare yourself.  Mr. Diggory is quite skilled as a Seeker."

"I'll try my best," Harry said, knowing that answer would please his uncle; it always did.  As expected, the man nodded approvingly and sat back, diving into his ungraded papers once more.

"Um, Uncle Severus?" Harry ventured, wincing as his voice came out like a five-year old's.

"Hmm?" the man acknowledged without looking up.

"Er, how's your leg?"  _Great start, Harry._

"Fine, Poppy healed it right up."  Harry sighed dejectedly, racking his brain for more questions.

"It looked pretty bad.  What happened?"  Harry tried to put as much concern in his voice as he could muster to drown out his curiosity.  This time, the man put down his quill and looked up at the boy, leaning on his desk as he spoke.

"Harry, there are some things going on of which you not need be aware.  You must trust me in this; I do not want you hurt."  Harry nodded and stood, checking the time.  "Here," his uncle held out a slip of paper.  "This will keep you from trouble in the next five minutes.  Any longer, and that slip will disappear, you understand?"

"Yes, sir, no side trips."

"Good boy.  Run along, now."  Harry bid goodnight to his uncle and left, nearly racing to the common room.  He gave the password to a very disgruntled knight and nearly toppled over an exiting Hermione.

"Harry!  Why the rush?"

"He wouldn't tell me!" Harry blurted out, pulling both Hermione and Colt to the side.

"Harry, I have to get back to my common room now!  Filch will kill me if I'm out after curfew."  Harry sighed; he didn't want to get her in trouble.

"Fine, but meet us in the library tomorrow after classes."

"Alright, goodnight!"  They responded in kind and Harry grabbed his bag from its previous place on the floor.

"So what's going on, Harry?" Colt asked.

"You know, let me sleep on it, and I'll tell you both tomorrow.  I'm probably making a big deal over nothing."  Colt nodded and returned to his book, which was nearly halfway complete.  Harry trudged up the stairs and collapsed into his bed, Archimedes curled up at his feet.

"And then he says, in his own way, that I don't need to worry.  Now, how am I supposed to do that when he specifically tells me not to!"

"Calm down, Harry.  He probably just ran into the troll."  Hermione put the finishing touches on her Potions essay as she answered him.

"Then why didn't he tell me?  Besides, the teachers didn't know where the troll was, so how would he have gotten to it so quickly."

"They are his dungeons mate.  He knows em better than anyone alive!" Colt offered.

"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully, "Maybe not.  I remember the Headmaster saying something about Hagrid.  That's the groundskeeper."

"He was in the boat with me," Hermione said, "he's rather odd, but friendly enough."

"You think he'd mind a visit from you?" Harry ventured.  Perhaps he could pry more out of Hagrid.  Puzzles intrigued Harry to no end, and this Hogwarts mystery was beginning to gnaw at his brain.  He simply had to find the answer, even if he didn't like it.

"I don't know, won't that seem a bit silly?  'Hello Hagrid!  We rode on the boat together, but I haven't talked to you since then.  How are things going?'  No, he won't see through that one at all."  Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, if you're going to be so negative about it," he let his statement hang, but she caught the full implication.

"Harry, no!  Look, the teachers can handle themselves.  I'm sure they don't need our help."

"She's right, mate," Colt added.  "We're just first years; they're fully trained.  What help could we be?"  Harry sighed, knowing his friends were right, but unable to let this go.

"Look, he and my uncle work together, and I'm sure Hagrid knows something about my parents.  I can come up with something convincing that will get us there.  All we need to do is get a few more clues."  Hermione packed her books away and tied up her bag.

"Lead on Fred," she sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"What?" the boys both eyed her strangely.

"Pure bloods," she teased, "Don't you watch the telly?"

"Uh, no," Colt stated, "Harry and I come from the wizarding world.  We don't watch the telly."  Harry laughed, pretty sure Colt had no idea what "watching the telly" meant.  As they continued their discussion, Harry discreetly steered them to the grounds, and out toward the small hut by the lake.  They didn't even realize where they were until Harry knocked on the large wooden door.

"You should have been in Slytherin," Hermione glared at him disapprovingly, but sighed as the door opened to reveal a rather large dog and an even larger man.

"Who's there?"

"Harry Potter, and this is Hermione Granger, and Colt Boot.  We're first years here."  Harry politely introduced himself and his friends, knowing politeness got him much further than directness.

"Arry?  That really you?  Blimey, come in!"  Harry grinned cheekily at his companions and followed the large man into his hut.

"Will he bite?" Hermione said, eyeing the large dog from behind Harry.

"Fang?  Nah, he's a bloody coward.  Would you like some tea?"  Hagrid gestured to a black pot sitting on the fire, but the students shook their heads.

"We have dinner in a few moments," Harry explained.  "I just…I just wanted to know about my parents, seeing as how you knew them and all.  I was hoping you might be able to tell me about them."

"What about your uncle?" Hagrid said quickly.  Harry thought he detected  a hint of hostility in the voice, but dismissed it.

"Oh, you know Uncle Severus.  A Slytherin through and through.  He told me all about how my mum was an excellent charms student, and how dad was a ringer for Transfiguration.  But he won't talk about them much."  Hagrid nodded knowingly, and sighed a heavy sigh.

"Well, James was a walloping good Quidditch player, I'm sure you've heard.  Chaser for Gryffindor, but he could have played anywhere just as good.  Lily was a sweet girl, and sharp as a tack.  By her second year, we were sure the hat had made a mistake.  She should have been a Ravenclaw, but I suppose Gryffindor was best in the end.  That's where she met your dad and all.  I think they started dating in their fourth year, or was it their fifth?  Anyway, he proposed after graduation, and you were born shortly after that.  Most here didn't think Professor Snape was fit to look after ya, but I s'pose ya turned out alright in the end."  He seemed to stop abruptly, as if remembering why Harry was living with his uncle in the first place.  Harry looked deep into the man's beady eyes, catching a glimmer of uncertainty, and he decided to play a card.

"You know, Uncle Severus says that the goblins at Gringotts' should all be fired.  I mean, to think if Vault 713 had been broken into before you retrieved it."  Harry shot a pointed look at the man, who seemed to sweat under his thick beard.  He hoped the man hadn't become too suspicious at the sudden change in topic, but Harry suspected the man was too worried about other things to concentrate on it.

"Don't you worry, now, Harry.  It's safe here at Hogwarts."

"I'll bet it is.  I mean, did you see Uncle's leg?"  Harry crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping he'd hit the right button.

"Now, Fluffy didn't mean any harm!  He just gets excited when he gets visitors.  O'course, with a three-headed dog, you have to be careful no matter what."  Harry's eyes widened, but he checked his features and shot a glare at his friends.  _Bingo!_

Hagrid seemed to realize his error, for he stood and ushered the three out of the hut.  "Shouldn'ta said that.  Now off with you.  Go play.  And keep yourselves out of trouble!"  Harry nodded sincerely, dragging his two dumbfounded friends off into the castle.  No one said a word until they were safely inside the Ravenclaw common room, in their own nook.

"A three-headed dog?  Reckon we could take a peek?" Colt raved, and Harry smiled sweetly at the seventh years glaring at them from the other corner.

"Keep your voice down, Colt!  That was it; that was what I needed.  So Fluffy, the three-headed dog, is guarding whatever was taken out of Vault 713."

"I swear, mate, sometimes you scare me.  How did you do that?"

"Well, you live with a Slytherin for long enough, you tend to get good at manipulating and bluffing."

"Uh huh.  You still scare me."  Harry was about to respond when a voice called his name from the other side of the common room.  He turned to see Roger Davies, the Quidditch captain, beckoning him over.

"Come on, Gryffindor's playing Slytherin tonight.  I want you to see a real game before you're actually out there.  And remember, no one is to know about it."  Harry nodded and pulled his friends out of the entrance.

"Come on, Hermione.  You need to cheer on your team!"  They raced out to the Quidditch pitch laughing together.  Hermione spotted Ron and Seamus in the front row of the Gryffindor stands and steered the boys away.

"Let's go sit in the Ravenclaw section.  It won't be as crowded."  Harry narrowed his eyes at the two Gryffindor boys, but followed her all the same.  He tried to concentrate on the game, but his mind was occupied, trying to figure out what Fluffy could be guarding, and why his uncle was acting strangely lately.

"And Angelina Johnson scores!  Ten points to Gryffindor!"  The red and gold stands erupted with cheers, while Slytherins booed from their place opposite the field.  Harry looked up in time to see one of the Weasley twins soar over his head after a Bludger.  He watched as the small black ball whizzed through the air and connected with Pucey's broom, knocking him backwards and making him drop the Quaffle.  A Gryffindor Chaser grabbed it and passed it up field, where another Chaser score.

"Another ten points to Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan announced from the stands.  Harry watched as the Slytherin Captain beat a Bludger into Wood, knocking the Keeper to the ground, then the other Chasers steering Spinnet into the stands.  Slytherin scored three times before the Snitch made its appearance.

Harry saw it before the other Seekers did, but the race was soon on, and Harry watched as red battled green in a death-defying dive.  With one last shove, the Slytherin Seeker knocked Gryffindor's off course and grabbed the Snitch, holding it high for all to see.

"Slytherin wins, 180 to 20!  I can't believe Madam Hoo–"  Harry heard the audible click that signaled McGonagall had taken control.  Harry clapped half-heartedly as he caught his uncle's glum smirk from the teacher stands.  Davies walked up behind him and clapped him on the back.

"Well, Harry, that's how it's done.  Just relax, think about what you want to do, and do it."  Harry nodded dumbly, but his mind was racing through different scenarios.  As they made their way out of the November chill, Hermione huddled between them, Harry steered them toward the teacher stands, where the Headmaster and McGonagall were in a discussion about the match.

"You cannot deny some of those moves were highly illegal, Albus!"  Harry's eyes widened as he saw his uncle approach them, and he quickly shoved his friends toward the castle, his intention of talking to the man all but gone.  

"What is wrong with you?" Colt asked.

"I'll explain later," he said, throwing a glance back in time to see his uncle's face twisted in fury.

Harry stepped up to his uncle's office door, but heard nothing.  Quietly, he opened it, but the room was dark and empty.  Steeling his mind, he made his way deeper into the dungeons, to his uncle's quarters.

"Well, well, if it isn't Saint Potter down from his throne!"  Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face Malfoy, who had just emerged from the Slytherin dorms with his two cronies.

"Hi Draco," Harry greeted, noticing the look of indignation that flitted across the Slytherin's face.

"Don't presume to know me, Potter," he spat disdainfully.  "What are you doing down here?"

"I'm just here to see Professor Snape.  Perhaps you've heard of him?" Harry said in the same tone the blonde boy had used on the train months ago.  Harry mind raced around, looking for possible escapes should this meeting turn serious.  He could always barricade himself in the office until his uncle came around.  _No, I'm not a coward, he told himself.  Just as his uncle had taught him, he shifted his arm so his wand extricated himself from its holster and into his palm.  He kept it hidden from the boys, but began thinking of different spells to get him out of this situation._

"Careful, Potter.  You're outnumbered, and on Slytherin ground."  Malfoy took a menacing step forward, reaching into his pocket for his wand.  Harry pulled his wand completely, holding it lightly in his grasp, and had it pointed at the three before Malfoy had his out.  But Harry still looked at the boy down an 9 inch yew wand.

Harry gripped his 10 inch holly wand tighter, but before either boy could fire a spell, their wands whizzed out of their hands down the hallway.  Harry shut his eyes and groaned softly, knowing full well what that meant.

"What, exactly, are the two of you doing down here in the dungeons, holding each other at wand point?" came a silky voice from the shadows.  For a moment, Draco smirked triumphantly, then he seemed to remember why Harry was down in the dungeons to begin with.

"Professor Snape," Draco began in his aristocratic tone, "Potter was looking for trouble, and nearly cursed Gregory from behind.  Luckily, my superior senses kicked in and–"

"Quiet, boy," Snape bit out before turning to his nephew.  "Mr. Potter, what are you doing in the dungeons?"

"I came to see you, sir.  I wished to discuss private matters."  Draco almost told the boy to go see his Head of House for private matters, but bit his tongue.

"And of Mr. Malfoy's accusation?"

"It's not true.  I had just come from your office and was heading to your rooms.  They came from the dorms and confronted me."  Harry managed to keep a calm face, but his insides were twisting and turning.  Would his uncle believe him, or favor his Slytherins again?

"He's lying, Professor!" Malfoy spat smugly, hoping to see Potter punished, but instead Snape rounded on him.

"No, Mr. Malfoy.  He was taught from an early age not to lie to his elders just to get out of trouble."

"But, sir!"

"No, Mr. Malfoy.  Return to the dormitories, now."  He handed the Slytherin his wand before the three turned and whispered the password.  Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as the wall slid open and the boys disappeared.  He let out a sigh as he followed his uncle to his private quarters.  Once safely inside, Snape handed the boy his wand and leveled him with a piercing glare.

"What are you doing out of your dormitories?  I will not always write curfew passes for you because you feel the sudden need to chat with me."  Harry re-holstered his wand and took a tentative seat on the forest green couch.

"I know sir, I just wanted to know how the argu – er, discussion with Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster went.  They're not going to make Slytherin replay the match, are they?"  Harry managed to put the right amount of concern in his voice, and his uncle relaxed a little.

"No, thankfully.  The Headmaster agreed that, while Slytherin's style of play is a little rougher than most, it is certainly not illegal.  Madam Hooch is more than capable of refereeing a match, and frankly, if I were her, I would have found Minerva's accusations insulting."   Harry nodded, sighing in relief.

"That was some match though, right?  I mean, Gryffindor has great Chasers and all, but without a proper Seeker, I don't see them winning this year."

"Too true.  Did you just come down to 'shoot the breeze,' or was there something of importance you wish to discuss?"  Harry found himself faltering under his uncle's scrutinizing gaze, and quickly glanced down at the man's leg, then back up.

"Where's the broom?" he asked, almost excitedly.  "Can I take it out for a test ride?  Please Uncle Severus?"  He almost sounded eight years old again, and Severus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"You may look at it, but you may not ride it.  You can fly a broom well enough, I suppose you do not need much time to adjust yourself to this one."  He strode into his study, where Harry was not permitted, and came out again holding the most beautiful broomstick Harry had ever seen.

"Wicked!" he gasped as he jumped up, reaching out to take it from his uncle's grasp.  Reluctantly, Severus let the boy hold it.  Harry used his fingers to memorize every inch of the broom, marveling at its weightlessness and streamline design.  "Are you sure I can't ride it till next week?  We have practice tomorrow!"  His uncle's glare silenced any more pleas, and he hesitantly handed his new treasure back to him.

"Now, off with you.  You still have ten minutes left till curfew, and I do not want to hear of any side trips."  Harry nodded, his eyes still on the broom.  He sighed and turned to go, but paused just at the portrait.

"Uncle Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"We were talking with some of the older years.  They were talking about Magical Creatures class, saying they've seen really rare and interesting animals that we've only dreamed of.  They say that there are monsters in the school.  Is it true?"  He made his voice quiver, as if he were truly frightened one of these "monsters" would break out and eat the children.

"Harry, there are many creatures in this world that you would deem 'monsters.'  Take dragons for instance.  But the Headmaster would not keep potentially dangerous creatures in this school."  Harry watched the man closely, but nothing in his posture or demeanor suggested the man was fibbing.

"Okay, goodnight!"  He waited for his uncle to respond in kind before bounding off, careful not to get caught running in the halls.  Only when he reached his dormitories did he remember his uncle was a Slytherin, and a former spy at that.  Harry sighed to himself as he changed for bed, knowing he was not going to get anything further from the Head of Slytherin House.

Harry woke the next morning to find an odd shaped package sitting at the foot of his bed, along with a note.  Scrambling out from under his covers, he ripped the letter open.

_Harry_

_You may use your broom in practice today, but it is to be returned to me by lunchtime.  Any later, and you will no longer be on the team.  Be careful, and good luck._

_Severus Snape_

Harry smiled as he unwrapped the Nimbus 2000.  Roger Davies burst in fully dressed for practice, but stopped dead at the sight of the broomstick.  Harry grinned and caught the Quidditch cloak the boy threw at him, quickly changing behind his curtains.

"I'll have to thank Professor Snape," Roger joked as they made their way out to the pitch.  "Now, we've got the pitch until lunch, so we'll get you trained up right for Seeker."  Harry nodded as they approached the rest of the team.  They all gawked at Harry's broom, but Roger's voice broke their stares.

"Right then!  Next week is our first game, and we've been allowed to use the pitch half the day to train our new Seeker, Harry Potter."  Light clapping followed the speech, and Harry's face flushed.  "Okay Harry, this is the rest of the team.  I'm a Chaser, along with Jeremy Streton and Randolph Beaux.  These are our Beaters, Duncan Ingleby and Jason Samuels.  Grant Page is our Keeper.  Now, you watched the Gryffindor/Slytherin match last week, so you know how it's done.  First, we'll do some warm-ups, then get into the training."  The team took off, and Harry followed, immediately feeling the difference in his broom.  If Harry had loved his Comet last year, the Nimbus was pure heaven.  It responded to his every miniscule movement, and he watched his teammates perform tricks; he even tried some himself.

Severus Snape watched his nephew flying around, practicing catching golf balls, hit by the Beaters.  After several minutes of not missing one, the Chasers stopped their practice with the Keeper to watch the young prodigy.  Harry was indeed an excellent flyer, and an even better Seeker.

Snape had to stop himself many times from pulling his wand to stop a dive, but Harry expertly pulled out of each with golf ball in hand.  As he made his way back to the dungeons unseen, he smiled to himself, a feeling of pride hidden deep within.

"Welcome to the second week of Quidditch!  This week is Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff!  The studious house has been closely guarding the identity of their new Seeker, but rumor has it that Cho Chang has been given the position.  And here they come!"  The Hufflepuff team flew out smiling, and Harry waited behind his captain, gripping his new broom tightly.

"Are you scared, Harry?" Roger asked, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.  Not trusting himself to speak, Harry nodded vigorously.  "Don't worry about anything but catching that little golden ball, you hear me?"  Again, the boy nodded as the door slammed open, and the Beaters and Keeper zoomed out.

"And here's the Ravenclaw team!" Harry heard Lee announce.  "And leading the Chasers is Captain Roger Davies and – holy cricket!  It's Harry Potter!  And he's got a Nimbus 2000!"  Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Hermione squealed as she jumped up and down clapping next to Colt.

Harry took several deep breaths as he looked out at the swelling crowd.  It seemed as if every house had come; even the Slytherins were interested in Ravenclaw's mystery Seeker.  As the Chasers and Beaters battled it out below, Harry swirled around above them, performing minor barrel rolls and flips to exhaust his giddiness.

Diggory waved at him from opposite the pitch, but Harry had taken to searching for the little golden Snitch.  He joined his teammates in celebration as Davies put in the Quaffle.

Harry purposefully soared over the teacher's stands, noting his uncle's impassive face watching him fly.  He waved a little before resuming his search for his prize.  As such, he missed his uncle's nod and proud smile.  Diggory dove, but Harry squinted closely, noting nothing in front of the boy.  He was trying to throw the new Seeker off course.  Harry smiled and quickly turned, diving the other way.  Diggory, thinking the younger boy had seen something, pulled out of his dive and followed.  Harry continued toward the ground, but steered away, twirling around one of the stands and shooting a grin back at the boy.  Cedric shook his head and flew higher, getting a better view of the Quidditch game.

Harry flew around, avoiding Bludgers and yelling to his team.  "Look left, Roger!" he called, and the Captain ducked as one of the Hufflepuff Chasers, MacAvoy, zoomed over him.  Throwing Harry a small wave in thanks, he volleyed the Quaffle up to Streton, who caught it, rolled over, and threw it past the Keeper.

"Ravenclaw scores again, leading Hufflepuff 20-0!  The seekers are still searching, but Diggory's Cleansweep won't match the speed of the Nimbus."  Severus, who had been appointed to monitor Lee during the match, glared at the boy, who gulped and turned his attention back to the game.  "Ravenclaw scores again, increasing their lead to 30."  Harry whooped and cheered, but immediately grabbed his broom as it began bucking and swaying, attempting to throw him off.

"What's going on with Harry?" Colt asked, peering through is binoculars.  Hermione wrenched them from his grip and looked, her face paling as Harry barely managed to save himself from falling fifty feet to the ground.  Looking around frantically, she stopped as her eyes fell on the teacher's stands.

"Look at Snape!" she called, thrusting the binoculars into the boy's hands.  Colt put them to his eyes and did as she said, focusing in on the potions master.  His face was frozen, eyes locked on Harry, and his mouth chanting a spell.

"What's he doing!" he yelled, glancing at Harry again to insure his friend was still in the air.

"It's a jinx!" Hermione answered, pulling her wand from her pocket.

"You dolt!  Harry's his nephew!  Why would he jinx him?"  But Hermione was listening; in fact, she wasn't in sight.  Colt returned the binoculars to the teachers, and noticed a small figure moving below them.

Hermione crept under the Slytherin teacher, muttering a spell that ignited the man's cloak.  He jumped, knocking most of the other faculty over, and causing Lee to almost miss Davies putting the Quaffle through again.  Hermione watched Harry as his broom steadied and he clambered back on, catching his breath.

Severus extinguished the flames before looking frantically back up; but Harry was safely atop his broom and searching for the Snitch again.  Letting out a huge sigh of relief, he looked around, glancing at the teachers out of the corner of his eye.  Flitwick was reclaiming his seat from his tumble, as was Vector and Sinistra.  Quirrell, who Severus knew hated Quidditch, was watching the game intently, as if he had just missed something important.

Pressing his lips together firmly, he turned back to the game in time to see Harry dive, circling a stand before snatching something from the air.  Madam Hooch blew her whistle as Harry pulled out, hand in the air, waving the small golden ball triumphantly.  Severus clapped politely, silently cheering for his nephew.

"Ravenclaw pulls a victory over Hufflepuff, 190-0!  That puts them in first over Slytherin, with Gryffindor in third place."  The microphone was promptly shut off and Lee scrambled down from the stands, seeking out his friends.

Harry was accosted by no less than 10 people when he walked into the Ravenclaw common room with the rest of the team.  Colt slapped him on the back and Hermione hugged him briefly, grinning from ear to ear.

"See, you didn't make a fool of yourself," she noted as several people pulled out butterbeer and candies.

"Where did you get these?" Harry asked an older Asian girl.

"Oh, third years and above are allowed to go to Hogsmeade on certain weekends.  We grabbed extra for this party."

"But how did you know we were going to win?" Harry asked, taking a sip of the butterbeer.

"Well, we didn't, but we always have a party after the Quidditch games, either to celebrate or raise spirits."  She shrugged as she was pulled away by her year-mates, giggling uncontrollably.  Harry shook his head as they kept shooting him glances conspiratorially. 

"What are they doing?" Harry whispered to Hermione, who looked up from her book to shrug.

"Girl talk, probably.  Who knows?"  Harry chuckled as Colt handed him a pasty, clapping him on the back again.  Hermione turned to say something about the Quidditch match and his uncle when Colt suddenly spoke up.

"They think you're cute, mate.  Go talk to them!"  He shoved Harry in their direction, but Harry quickly veered and headed for the door.

"I think I'll go see my uncle.  I have to return my broom anyway."  He quickly waved goodbye before Colt could protest or Hermione could stop him and left, making his way to the dungeons with his Nimbus in hand.

"I was wondering when you were going to return that," came a voice from the shadows of the Entrance Hall.  Harry jumped in the air and pulled his wand, his Nimbus forgotten on the floor.  "Good reflexes, Harry.  Perhaps living with me all these years has indeed paid off."  Harry pocketed his wand and retrieved his broom from the floor as his uncle emerged from the shadows.

"You scared me to death, Uncle!" he hissed, catching his breath.

"Well then, perhaps you should work more on tuning your senses to your surroundings.  Come with me."  Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and did as he was told, following his uncle to his quarters.  Severus took the broom from the boy and stowed it away in his study before returning to his chair in front of the fire.

"Uncle, what are we doing for Christmas?" Harry asked, sitting down on the rug in front of the man.  Archimedes, upon hearing his master's voice, padded out from the bedroom and purred loudly as he crawled into Harry's lap.

"We are staying here this year, Harry.  I have not had break duty in the years I've taught here, so I could be at the manor with you.  However, now that you are here, we will be spending the holidays at Hogwarts."  After summoning a book for himself and his nephew, Severus elapsed into silence.  Harry sighed and opened it and began reading about great discoveries of the past centuries.

An hour passed in a comfortable silence.  The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the soft purring of the white cat in Harry's lap.  Sighing, the boy shut his book and stood.

"Could I stay here, tonight?  Please?  I don't feel like trudging all the way up to the dormitories."  Harry was careful not to let his childish whine sneak through, and leveled his best pleading stare on his uncle.

"Absolutely not.  You will not be given special permission just because you are a relative of a staff member.  I will allow you to stay here for the holidays, but not before."  Harry's shoulders slumped as he shelved his book.  "However, I will walk you back to your dormitory, so you will not run into trouble."  Severus fixed the boy with a knowing glare, and Harry smiled sheepishly.  Archimedes, not quite ready to leave his master, followed the pair silently, trotting to keep up with the two humans.

"Goodnight Uncle," Harry said after he'd given the password.  Hermione smiled at him on her way out, but stopped short at the sight of the potions master.  Harry turned back to his uncle.  

"Could you walk Hermione to the Gryffindor dorms?  I don't want her to get into trouble with Filch."  Hermione's eyes widened as she turned to Harry, gaping as if Malfoy had just apologized to her; and Harry let out a laugh when Hermione nearly fainted at the man's answer.

"Of course.  If you please, Miss Granger?"  Archimedes mewed to announce his presence, and Harry stooped to pick up the cat, watching the retreating forms of his friend and uncle.


	6. Chapter 6

*sticks head around corner*

Is it safe?

*ducks flying objects thrown her way*

Guess not…hey, what can I say?  It's been over a month now.  Really sorry about that, but honestly, it was out of my control.  Being in the military has that drawback.  But I'm back on track and prepared to finish Harry's first year in the next couple of chapters.

On a funnier note, my sociology teacher's name is Bill Lockhart.  I'm prepared to have a lot of fun this semester.

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"Have you heard who else is staying for Christmas?" Hermione asked at breakfast.  Harry shook his head, but Colt looked up from his novel.

"No Ravenclaws, that I know of.  Except Harry here, of course.  What about in Gryffindor?"

"Ron Weasley's family is going to Romania, so he's staying, along with Fred and George.  And I believe a few of the older years are staying."  Harry swallowed his eggs and smiled brightly, his voice ringing with Christmas cheer.

"Uncle said none of the Slytherins were staying, so Christmas this year will be enjoyable."  Colt elbowed Harry in the ribs sharply, and Harry grinned.  "What?  Better now than later.  Uncle would have had me disemboweling frogs from now till Easter if he'd heard that."  Colt's eyes shifted sideways to the figure behind them.

"That's why I elbowed you, Harry," he returned, and Harry groaned inwardly.

"If you cannot enjoy the holidays with a Slytherin in your presence Mr. Potter, then perhaps you should stay in your dormitories for their duration."  Harry turned to face his uncle, but the man had turned sharply and stormed out of the hall.  Hermione gulped as Harry turned back to his plate, his appetite suddenly gone.

"He didn't seem too angry," Colt offered, hoping to lift his friend's spirits.

"No," Hermione said sadly, "He seemed hurt."  Harry stabbed his breakfast with his fork and sighed; Hermione seemed dumbfounded at this.  "Aren't you going to go apologize, Harry?"

"Not right now," Harry droned, his Christmas spirit depleted.

"But what about –"

"No!" Harry shot up out of his seat.  "You don't understand!"  Before they could ask him what he meant, he was gone.  The altercation had not gone unnoticed by the faculty however, and Flitwick trotted over.

"What's the problem, Mr. Boot?"

"It's Harry, Professor.  He's acting strange."

"I will talk with him, then.  Do you happen to know where he would be?"  Both students shook their heads.  "Very well."  The small wizard continued out of the hall and began looking for his pupil.  After a few minutes of futile searching, he pulled his wand.

"_Evestigatus__ Harry Potter," he spoke, and a thin blue line shot from his wand.  He followed it up the stairs and down the hall.  Soon he came upon the Astronomy Tower and pocketed his wand.  Climbing the stairs, he was surprised to see his young charge hunched over parchment, glancing at a textbook every now and then._

"Mr. Potter?" he inquired softly, and when the boy did not look up, he scooted closer and tried again.  This time, the boy set his quill down and sat up, locking eyes with his Head of House.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, a hint of tears in his voice. 

"Might I inquire as to what you are doing in the Astronomy Tower just before you are due in potions?"

"I'm just finishing an extra project for Professor Sinistra.  She asked me to have it complete before the holidays started."  Flitwick pursed his lips and cleared his throat.  "Right then.  And of the outburst at breakfast moments ago?"  It was clear Harry was not easily forthcoming with information, and the Ravenclaw Head of House was not about to spend hours on end playing a game with a first year student.

"Professor, I lost my temper…it happens.  I'll apologize to Hermione and Colt later.  I just had to get out and think, you know?"  Harry stood and gathered his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder.  "Goodbye Professor.  I'll see you later."  Harry glided by the teacher and down the stairs.  He came upon the Great Hall just as Colt and Hermione were exiting.  They all stopped and looked at one another, wondering who was going to make the first move.  Finally, Harry, knowing it was to be him, cleared his throat.

"Sorry, about before I mean.  I've got a lot on my mind lately, and it was unfair for me to take it out on you guys."  Silence reigned among them as Harry looked at his friends for a sign of forgiveness.  Finally, Colt shrugged nonchalantly and clapped him on the shoulder, while Hermione smiled brightly.  Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and gave them a little smile.  Without another word, they set off for their classes, waving as Hermione broke off for Transfiguration.  Harry's heart beat heavier as they descended into the dungeons.  They entered the classroom together, taking their seats up front.  Harry steeled his nerves and placed a mask over his face, just as he'd seen his uncle do many times.  He wasn't going to let the man see his distress, and he even smiled a little at Colt's antics with Hannah.

Professor Snape burst through the doors with more fervor than usual, and several pairs of eyes turned to Harry.  Before he could react, Snape began scribbling ingredients on the board and declared that this would be the end of term exam and there was to be no talking.

"Harry, I really think you should apologize now," Colt whispered after Snape yelled at Hannah for breathing too loudly.  "He's treating us like Gryffindors!"

"No," Harry returned evenly.  "I'll talk to him later.  Now would only anger him more."  Colt nodded and began adding shriveled fig to his potion.

As the period ended, Harry gathered his things and walked slowly up to the desk, his face even and his stride purposeful.  The potions master merely raised an eyebrow at the boy, and Harry swallowed his pride.

"I'm sorry, Uncle," he said quietly, "What I said was rude, and I didn't really mean it."

"Then why did you say it," the silky voice was low but deadly.  Harry's brow furrowed, finally realizing how much his uncle had been hurt by the comment.

"It was a joke, honestly.  You've seen the way Malfoy treats us."

"So because of Malfoy, you are going to say that all Slytherins are bad?"  _Uh oh, Harry thought.  Stereotyping Slytherins was the one thing his uncle hated above all things, and Harry had just admitted he'd done it.  Unfortunately, his uncle had taken his silence as an affirmation and stood, rising to his full height._

"Mr. Potter, I do believe you should be getting to class.  You're professor will be wondering where you are."

"No, Uncle, I didn't mean –"  But it was too late.  Snape entered his office and closed the door, leaving Harry standing in an empty classroom, staring after his uncle.  Dejectedly, he left, walking silently and slowly up to the Charms classroom.  Harry took his seat next to Hermione and dropped his bag on the floor, not bothering to grab any parchment or his quill.  The tiny wizard noticed his student's distress and after giving the class instructions for the written end of term exam, he called Harry up to his desk.

"Is there something you'd like to talk about, Mr. Potter?  You don't seem yourself.  Is there a problem between you and your friends?"

"No, Professor.  My uncle and I had a row, and I've tried apologizing, but he doesn't want to listen to me."  Flitwick nodded and guided the young boy into his office.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter," he offered, and Harry sank into the armchair.  "Now, what is this row about?"  Harry sighed, knowing there was no way out.

"He's blowing it way out of proportion!  I just joked about no Slytherins being here over Christmas and how enjoyable it would be.  I didn't think he'd actually hear me."

"So because he couldn't hear you made it alright to say?"

"Well, no," Harry flustered, "I know I shouldn't have, but after enduring Malfoy for a whole term, it just sort of slipped out."

"You of all people should know that stereotyping Slytherins based on the actions of a few is wrong.  Not to mention that Professor Snape hates that above all else."  Harry nodded.

"He hates me now, I know it.  He told me to stay in the dormitories for Christmas, and he'll probably make me live with Colt during the summer."

"Now, now, no need to be hasty.  I'm sure he doesn't hate you, but you need to think about this from his perspective.  He is a Slytherin, and very proud of that fact.  You saying the holidays are more enjoyable without Slytherins probably made him feel you haven't been happy living with him all these years."  Harry's eyes widened as the realization dawned on him.

"No!  That's not what I meant!"

"Do you happen to recall your conversation with Mr. Malfoy yesterday?" Flitwick inquired.  Harry nodded slowly, going over the exchange in his head.

_"So Potter," Harry closed his eyes in exasperation as Malfoy accosted him outside of Quirrel's classroom.  "Another Christmas without your parents," he snickered, then sobered up, adopting a mockingly saddened expression.  "You must miss them something terrible."_

_"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry warned, letting the boy know he was in no mood for games._

_"I'll bet your uncle throws grand Christmas parties just like my father," the Slytherin continued, not noticing Harry's darkening glare.  "They were both in Slytherin you know.  And from the same type of family.  From what father tells me, they were practically inseparable."  Harry, not wanting to hear his uncle be compared to Lucius Malfoy any longer, decided to throw the Slytherin a twist._

_"Actually, the holidays at our house aren't very festive at all.  Pretty much the same old boring stuff that goes on all the time.  I imagine you must be as disappointed as I am during the holidays, then."  Harry eyed the boy, satisfied at getting the desired reaction.  Malfoy scowled, sulking off to his common room, leaving Harry smiling._

"I remember," Harry said, smiling slightly at the vision of a deflated Malfoy.

"You're uncle was quite upset at staff meeting last night, and it took Albus three cups of tea to calm him down enough to explain, in his own way.  How could you say something like that, Mr. Potter?  Your uncle has tried very hard these last ten years, and I'm very disappointed that you have not realized how much he cares for you."

"He heard?!" Harry leapt out of his seat, replaying the conversation over in his mind, thinking of how it would sound if he had just heard the last part.  "I was talking to Malfoy, and he kept comparing Uncle Severus to his father.  I couldn't stand it anymore, and I had to say something to wipe the grin off his face."

"Oh dear," the smaller wizard sat back down, a frown evident on his face.  "Severus must have only heard…oh my."  Harry paced for a while, then sat back down.

"Now I know he hates me.  That's why he was so distant when I tried to talk to him after class.  And…"  Harry's face went slack before he buried his head in his hands.  "He asked me why I said it if I didn't mean it.  He must have been talking about yesterday, too."

"I believe the two of you need to sit down and have a discussion."

"No, he won't!  He's going to release me, and I'll be living in some orphanage until I'm seventeen!"  Flitwick stood and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Now, let's not be rash.  I'm sure you and Severus are not the first family to have arguments, and you certainly won't be the last.  I've seen many students who've had problems with their parents, and it all works out for the better in the end."  Harry stood, shrugging the elder wizard off.

"But that's just it, professor!  He's not my parent, he's my uncle.  I mean, yeah, he's looked out for me and raised me, but…"  Harry trailed off, realizing just how much he'd let out.  Flitwick sighed and scuttled over to the door.

"Harry, I think this goes beyond the past couple of days, and I suggest you and your uncle have a long sit down.  Tell him how you feel and what you're thinking."  Harry nodded softly, knowing his uncle wouldn't be responsive to such action.  But he kept silent, not wanting to delay himself or his professor any longer.  "Good!  Now, are you ready for your end of term?"  Harry again nodded and followed the Charms professor back into the classroom.  He waved off Hermione's concerned smile, and sat down, delving into his exam immediately.

*****

"Was I wrong to take him in at all, Albus?"

The venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed as he sipped his tea, listening to his distraught professor.  Of course, anyone other than the Headmaster himself wouldn't have known the normally dower potions master was distraught, but Dumbledore had grown to recognize his charge's moods and mannerisms.

"Come now, Severus.  Are you positive you did not misunderstand Harry?  Or his intentions?"

"Albus, I heard him in the halls yesterday, practically broadcasting that he'd rather have grown up anywhere but with me.  And he was telling his friends at breakfast that he doesn't enjoy the company of Slytherins.  I have tried to teach him that being a Slytherin in itself does not make a witch or wizard evil, but the choices of that person."  Severus had given up on his tea and was now pacing around the small office.  As he passed by the older man's chair, Severus felt a warm, calming hand on his forearm.  Immediately, he stopped and sunk back down into the armchair.

"Have you spoken to young Harry since these incidents and asked him what he meant?"

"Of course, Albus!  I knew I should have sent the boy off to Beauxbatons, instead of here."

"Severus, you know as well as I that he would have been neither happy nor safe so far away."  Albus' voice began to take on a commanding timbre.  "Now, as soon as classes are over, you will assist your nephew in moving his belongings down to your quarters, and you will have a long discussion.  If you must skip dinner in the hall tonight, do so; I will send an elf with food.  But you will get this sorted out."  Severus knew when he could argue with the Headmaster, and when he could not.  He sighed, nodding his consent, and stood.

"I have classes to teach, good day."  Without waiting for a reply, he descended the stairs and stalked to the dungeons, only taking slight satisfaction at the sight of the students scattering to avoid his wrath.

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Well, there you have it.  Not a lot of action, but plenty of drama.  I wonder what the future will have in store for the potions master and his young nephew?  I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Oh, right, I'm the writer.  Well in that case, er, I should probably go get cracking huh?  TTFN ~ RG


	7. Chapter 7

I'm back, after a much-needed break. This chapter will go straight through the holidays and into the next term. I feel _so _bad for having made all of you wait, and I hope you can forgive me. There really is no excuse, other than the US Air Force tends to take up a lot of my time.

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Harry sat in his room, absently stroking the soft white fur of Archimedes and looking out his window. The other students had left two hours ago on the train, and Harry was left alone in his dormitory. He was so lost in thought he didn't notice the figure enter the room and slink up behind him, watching him intently.

"Are you packed?" The silky voice made him jump, and he stood to face his uncle.

"Sir?" Harry asked him, trying with all his might to keep from looking at his shoes. He was surprised the man had come up at all, and was wondering now to what he was referring.

"Gather what you will need for the holidays and have a house elf bring it to your room downstairs. Then report to my study." With that, Snape whirled and exited, his black robes the only mark that the man was irate. Harry absently obeyed his uncle's request and soon, he found himself treading to the dungeons.

Carefully, he entered his uncle's rooms and made his way quietly to the study. The door was open, so he stood at the entrance, peering in at his uncle reading in his favorite chair.

"Come in," Harry was startled from his spot by the soft voice of his uncle, and he shuffled to the couch and sat gingerly on its edge, as if poised to flee. Snape shut the book and set it on the end table, steepling his fingers and gazing at the boy across from him.

"Professor?" Harry tried in a small voice, but his uncle raised his hand to stop him.

"The term is over, Harry," he offered, and Harry relaxed a little.

"Uncle Severus," Harry tried again, and smiled a little at his uncle's nod. "Why am I here?"

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Well, sir," Harry swallowed and sat up a little straighter, "You said that I was to spend the holidays in the dormitories."

"I was…" Severus paused to collect his thoughts, "upset, I guess you could say."

"But I didn't mean what I said! Honest! And yesterday, I just said what I did to shut Malfoy up! I didn't know you heard that, and I'm really sorry, and –" Severus stood abruptly, silencing Harry's apology.

"Have you not been happy these last ten years?" The question was rather abrupt and Harry had to think a moment, sending his uncle the wrong signal. "If you were unhappy, it was your duty to tell me so. We could have found a more suitable place for you to live. I told Albus in the beginning I had no idea how to raise a child."

"Sir?" Harry recognized that his uncle was rambling.

"Harry," Severus perched himself on the edge of the chair next to his nephew. "I think it's time I explained a few things to you."

"Like what?"

"Like what happened the night your parents were killed." Severus inhaled deeply, knowing full well this could cost him everything. "Harry, do you remember what I told you about Death Eaters?"

"Yeah, they're the followers of the Dark Lord."

"Right, and do you remember when I told you that, while most of them are there voluntarily, some are forced into his service?" Harry nodded and gulped, not really liking where this was going. "Harry, I was a Death Eater." There, he'd said it; now all he had to do was wait for Harry to run.

"Who forced you to join him!" Harry leapt from his seat, but Severus put a calming hand on his shoulder.

"No one," he answered softly, and Harry sat back down in disbelief. "When I was young, not too much older than you, I joined a group here at Hogwarts. We were a secret society, bent on finishing school and then joining the Dark Lord. My father was so proud the day I took the mark. He had raised me by himself, as mother had died shortly after she gave birth to me." Harry nodded dumbly, having known about his grandparents from a prior conversation.

"Why?" The question came out strained and much more quiet than Harry had intended, but Severus heard it the same.

"Because I had to, because it was the only way anyone would pay attention to me, there are many reasons, Harry. But the most common and powerful reason is power. The Dark Lord offered me power, prestige, and money. To a Slytherin, that's very tempting; especially one who was always ignored by his peers, taunted by his enemies, and pressured by his father."

"So you were raised a Death Eater?" Harry ventured, feeling extremely uncomfortable about the topic, but glad that someone was actually talking to him about his parents, in a roundabout sort of way. 

"Yes. But while I did many horrible things as a Death Eater, I soon realized that it was not what I wanted to do anymore. But one does not simply leave the Dark Lord's service, unless they are caught and thrown into Azkaban. So, when I came to Albus and confessed my sins, he offered an alternative to Azkaban."

"Which was?" Harry prodded.

"That does not concern you, nor do you need to know it. However, you must know that I am not a loyal follower of the Dark Lord anymore." Harry nodded vigorously. "And here's the trick, Harry; this is why you have to be careful around certain people. The Death Eaters who remained loyal to the Dark Lord after his downfall still believe me loyal, so you cannot breath a word of this to anyone. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, sir. I'm very good at keeping secrets. I have been living with a Slytherin for ten years." Severus chuckled lightly and smirked in annoyance. "What does any of this have to do with the night Mum and Dad died?"

"I was just getting to it, do not be impatient." Severus sighed, collecting his thoughts, and continued on. "That night, after the Dark Lord's downfall, the mark he had bestowed upon me burned for a moment, then faded almost completely. I came to tell Albus, and you were already here, in the arms of Fletcher and Moody." Harry nodded eagerly, ready to add to the conversation.

"And then the man from the Ministry came and read Mum and Dad's wills. You got her journal, read it, took me home, and here I am!" Harry grinned a little, and Severus could not stop himself from scoffing.

"If you are quite finished with your histrionics, Mr. Potter?" he said huffily. 

"Sorry," Harry ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Got a little excited."

"Hmm," Severus returned. "In any case, you should know that I was not the only relative who could have taken you."

"What?" Harry was confused. How could he have relatives and not know about them?

"They are Muggles, Lily's sister, well, half-sister, Petunia. She married a man named Vernon Dursley a few years before you were born, and up until several years ago, they lived in Surrey."

"Muggles? They couldn't have taken me, could they?"

"Yes, if there had been nowhere else for you to go, you would have gone to live with them until you turned eleven."

"Wait, you said 'up until several years ago.' Where do they live now?" Severus took a deep breath and steeled himself for Harry's reaction.

"When you were five years old, we received a report of an attack on a Muggle family in Surrey. When the Ministry went to investigate, they found your aunt and cousin dead, and your uncle insane from the Cruciatus. He is currently in a department of St. Mungo's for Muggles attacked by wizards."

"So, they're dead? My aunt and cousin, I mean." Severus merely nodded as Harry took in the information. He had thought all his life that his uncle was his only relative, and he was fine with that. But now, knowing he had relatives and never got to know them, he was saddened, and perhaps a little angry.

"What were they like?" he found himself asking, before he let his anger get the best of him.

"I do not tend to speak ill of the dead, but they were not very pleasant. Petunia hated all wizarding kind, and hated your mother the most of all for being a witch. Envy, I suppose. And when she married Dursley, she poisoned his mind and turned him against wizards as well. I don't suppose either of us would have been welcome in their home." Severus felt that the truth was the best course at the moment, having hidden this from Harry for nearly six years.

"Can I go see him?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. Severus looked at the boy in shock and disbelief. "I just want to…to meet him, I guess."

"Perhaps," Severus managed after a few deep breaths. "But now we must focus on the holidays, and preparing for the return of the students."

"Uncle!" Harry laughed, "The holidays just began. Relax a little; I've never spent a holiday in the castle before. I expect it will be amazing."

"Yes, very festive," Severus said flatly. Harry stood and made for the door, but stopped and walked slowly back over to his uncle.

"Do you regret taking me in?" Severus' head snapped up and he gazed into the boy's emerald eyes. His mind raced back several years, and his breath caught in his throat.

_An eight-year old Harry Potter raced through the kitchen to his stairs, tears streaming down his face. "You never let me do anything I want to do! If you didn't want me, you shouldn't have kept me!" he screamed back at his now-irate uncle who was trailing him._

_"Then perhaps I should have sent you to an orphanage in the first place!" Severus yelled up the stairs after his nephew. He resisted the urge to follow him and curse the child into oblivion, and instead sat at his dining table, head in hands._

"Harry, I'll admit that we've not had an easy time of this," he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "but I would not have changed a day." He graced his nephew with an affectionate smile, something reserved for Harry alone, and the boy launched himself into the man's arms. Neither of them was any good at voicing what they wanted to say, but as Harry wrapped his arms around the man's neck, and he felt his uncle's protective embrace surround him, both knew their bond had been restored, perhaps stronger than ever.

"What do you say you start working on a Christmas list, young man," Severus said after a few moments, pulling away. Harry grinned and pulled a roll of parchment from his robe. "I should have known," Severus sighed.

"What are you reading?" Harry walked over and picked up his uncle's book from the table. "_Poets of the Twentieth Century_? You're reading a Muggle book?" Severus stood and swiped the book gracefully from Harry's hand.

"I'll have you know that poetry is relaxing and comforting. You can always find a poem, for any occasion." Harry smirked, dodging a cuff from his uncle. "Sit down, if you don't believe me." Harry smartly sat down in the chair, ignoring his uncle's mirthful glare. Instead of pulling another chair, Severus decided to sit in his chair, causing Harry to yelp in surprise and jump to one side, nearly on the arm rest.

"Hey!"

"If you want to sit in my chair, there will be consequences." Harry smiled cheekily and settled down, much to his uncle's annoyance.

"You were saying something about poems?" Harry asked haughtily.

"Brat," Severus whispered under his breath, but Harry heard him all the same. "Be quiet and listen." He flipped it to a rather worn-looking page, as if this particular poem had been read many times over the years. Severus wrapped his right arm about the boy's shoulders and cleared his throat. Slowly, he began to read, methodically and softly, intoning perfectly.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference."

Harry smiled, understanding that the last line was meant for him, and he jumped out of the chair. "Thanks, Uncle Severus. My life would have been a lot different without you." Harry gave him a brief hug and bolted out of the room, determined to finish his holiday homework by dinner.

*****

"I trust you've resolved everything, Severus?" Flitwick asked as the staff gathered for their holiday staff party. Begrudgingly, Severus reminded himself of the benefits of having missed so many Christmas' at Hogwarts: no staff parties.

"Yes, we had a long sit and discussed the problems." Severus managed a polite tone, though anyone within ten feet knew the man was not happy about being there.

"And where is Mr. Potter, hmm?" the diminutive wizard squeaked.

"He is currently owling his friends with their presents, I believe." Severus had had just enough conversation with the Head of Ravenclaw to last the rest of the break, and he quickly made an excuse to see Dumbledore, who was currently trying on one of the many hats that had emerged from the poppers. 

"Ah, Severus," the old man beamed, "top hat?" Severus sneered at the proffered item and drew himself up.

"No, Headmaster. I believe I've fulfilled my duty of presence here. If I may be excused to my leisure, I have a promise to fulfill." Without waiting for a protest from Dumbledore, he swept out of the room and down to his rooms, where Harry was reading his Transfiguration text.

"Getting a head start on next term?" Severus asked approvingly. Harry only nodded, engrossed in the text. "Did you send your presents off?" Again, the boy nodded. "Would you like to go visit Mr. Dursley?" Harry slammed his book closed and leapt off the couch.

"Can we really?" he asked, more excited than he'd thought he'd be. At his uncle's nod, he walked swiftly to his room, knowing how his uncle hated running indoors, and grabbed his travel cloak. Seconds later, Harry emerged ready to go and waited patiently for his uncle. Finally, the man came out of his rooms and wordlessly walked out, Harry trailing silently behind him.

"We will be Flooing there," Severus stated matter-of-factly, knowing Harry didn't care how they got there. They left the castle after informing the Headmaster, and climbed into a carriage that would take them to Hogsmeade. After a short ride, they stepped down into the busy town, and Harry walked closely next to his uncle, not wanting to be lost in the Christmas crowd.

Shortly, they reached the Floo station, and Harry steeled himself for the rough ride. Christmas was always a bad time to Floo, what with all the traffic, and therefore it was usually rougher than normal.

"You will go first. When you reach your destination, stay put. I do not want to have to look for you, is that understood?" Harry nodded, knowing the tone of voice his uncle used was not to be disobeyed. After a short, balding man left for Wheatsheaf, Harry stepped up to the platform and grabbed a fistful of powder.

"St. Mungo's!" he called out clearly, and he vanished in a flash of fire. He emerged rather quickly in a large room, several groups of people scattered about. He stepped aside to allow his uncle to exit and looked around at the different people.

A small group of hags were cackling over in a corner, and one turned to gleam at him momentarily before turning back to her gaggle. Harry shook off a chill and turned his attention away from them. What looked like a family group was sitting on a couch on the far wall The little boy was apparently ill and had his head in his mother's lap and his feet in his father's. Both adults were looking worriedly at the child; then the mother brushed the bangs out of the small child's face and caressed his cheek lovingly. Harry's heart gave a familiar ache before he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the knowing eyes of his uncle and he gave a small smile, feeling comforted by the man's touch.

"Come on, then," he heard his uncle say, and he smiled to himself as he remained in the safe half-embrace. They made there way to the entrance desk, where the Welcome Witch smiled at them politely.

"Wands, please and reason for visit." Severus removed his wand and peered at Harry, who looked at him quizzically.

"Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling his wand from its place and handing to the witch. "Not used to it," he shrugged sheepishly, and Severus hid a smirk.

"We're here to visit a Muggle, Vernon Dursley," Severus stated, and the witch nodded, waving her wand swiftly. They were each handed a purple badge with a large number 11 on it and sent on their way.

Harry's stomach flip-flopped as they entered Ward 11 and proceeded to Room 114. They stopped abruptly outside and Severus turned to Harry.

"Would you like to go in alone?" he asked softly, more for the benefit of Harry than the rules of the hospital. Shaking his head, he waited for his uncle to open the door before he walked in, feeling a little steadier for the man's presence behind him.

A large man lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His dinner lay untouched, and Severus knew the attendant would be in any moment to feed the Muggle.

"Harry, we must be quick. They will want to feed him dinner soon." Harry nodded, barely registering his uncle's words. Harry approached the bed cautiously, knowing the man didn't, and would never, recognize him.

"Mr. Dursley?" he said shakily, somehow it felt wrong to call this man "uncle." There was no response, and Harry's shoulders slumped.

"Harry, he can't respond," Severus whispered. Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the man in the bed. He took a few more steps until he was right next to him and took a shaky breath.

"Sir, I know you don't like wizards, but I am sorry that you lost your family." Harry whispered this, but it was loud enough for Severus to hear in the deathly silent room. Harry stayed for a few more moments before turning and walking into his uncle's open arms. He didn't cry, for some reason he could find no tears for the man lying comatose in the hospital bed. Guiltily, one thought kept running through Harry's mind as they made their way out and back to Hogwarts.

_At least you got to know your family._

*****

Christmas morning came, and Harry scrambled out of bed at seven in the morning, disturbing Archimedes. The snow white cat let out a moan of agitation before settling back down in the covers. Harry ordered breakfast for his uncle and himself before tiptoeing carefully to the man's room. As he did every Christmas, he jumped on his uncle's bed, forgetting momentarily that they were not at the Manor, but in fact at school.

"Insolent brat!" he heard his uncle's muffled cry from within the confines of the blankets. Harry grinned widely and pulled on his uncle's arm until the man stood, glaring at the boy.

"Can't you sleep in, just once, at Christmas?" Harry shook his head violently, and raced out of the room, followed slowly by a lethargic potions master. He spelled his night robes into daily ones and sat down at breakfast, deliberately taking his time to annoy the bouncing eleven year old at the other end of the table.

"Come on, Uncle Severus!"

"Harry, you are a schooling wizard now and I expect you to behave as though you are not five years old!" he scolded. "Try to show some manners befitting a person of your class." Harry cast his eyes downward and apologized hastily, before making his way out of the dining room and into his room. He dressed quickly, stroking Archimedes' soft fur in an apology for jostling him before making his way out into the main room. His uncle was ready to join the others in the staff room, and Harry furrowed his brow.

"We will be opening presents with the rest of the staff, Harry. This is not like Christmas at the manor." Harry nodded in understanding and followed the man out and up to the staff room. Very few professors had stuck around for the holidays, and Harry smiled when he saw his Head of House and the Headmaster. 

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" the venerable wizard greeted jovially. Harry couldn't help but beam back at the man and took his seat next to his uncle. Professor Flitwick levitated everyone's presents to them, and Harry was excited when his professor asked him to help.

As soon as everyone had their gifts, all eyes turned to Harry, who frantically grabbed the nearest gift and tore into it. It was a blue and gold scarf from his Head of House, who promptly added to Severus that every first year received one from him every Christmas. This made Harry feel better as he studied it, only to find that the embroidered eagles were flying around in their own little sections. He thanked his professor and grabbed another, only to be stopped by his uncle.

"It is someone else's turn, I believe," Severus said, looking up at the Headmaster.

"Oh Severus, it's Christmas," Professor McGonagall stated, "Let him enjoy." She graced Harry with a rare smile, which Harry shyly returned. Severus sighed and took his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"Very well, then. If you must." Harry's face split into a grin and he reached for Hermione's present. It was labeled "To be opened in private," and he quickly set it behind him, hoping his uncle wouldn't ask any questions. He didn't, thankfully, and Harry grabbed Colt's gift.

"Something better than the school issue, I think," Harry read the tag aloud, then tore into the blue wrapping. Excitedly, he pulled out Seeker gloves, embossed with his initials and a small blue eagle. He smiled and set them on top of the scarf, eagerly reaching for the next present. As he did, the Headmaster cleared his throat.

"Severus thought it would be terribly inappropriate for us to get you a Christmas gift, something about favorability or some nonsense," Harry smiled at the old man's twinkle. "But please come see me before you run off, Harry. I have something of your father's I would like to give you." Harry's ears perked up and he started at the Headmaster's words.

"M-my father's, sir?" he asked hesitantly. 

"Yes, dear boy. And as it is an inheritance, you are not required to relinquish it to anyone," the Headmaster seemed to point this comment more to Severus than Harry, and Severus' brow furrowed.

"Headmaster, what –"

"Nothing of importance, Severus. Just some of James' old school things." Severus seemed appeased by this answer, but Harry was just more confused. Puzzled, he grabbed one of the two remaining presents from his uncle and opened it.

"Perhaps a little something to read in your off time, rather than always in your texts?" Severus asked softly. Harry smiled at the poetry book and set it down in his lap, accepting the final present from his uncle. "I have read it many times, Harry," his uncle said as he unwrapped the leather journal. "Perhaps you can learn more of your mother from that, hmm?" Harry's eyes became warm with tears as he fingered his mother's journal. A small flower was stitched into the cover in the bottom right corner, and he carefully traced his fingers over it. Knowing it would not do to hug his uncle in front of his teachers (not to mention feeling incredibly embarrassed at the thought), he quickly gathered his things, placing Hermione's unopened present under the scarf, and stood.

"I think I'll go to my room and put my things away. Thank you, everyone." He waited for a nod from his uncle before departing, and as he made his way past the Great Hall, he peeked in, seeing the other students. Quickly, he deposited his things in the dungeon and raced back up, eager to join his classmates.

As he entered, he saw that all of the students were occupying one table, all of them huddled around a large bowl of eggnog and sharing gifts and notes. As he approached, a few of the older students eyed him with awe, while Ron gave him a small smile.

"Hi Harry," he greeted softly, still treading softly around the boy from their earlier encounter.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, and waited for the young boy to look at his brothers. Fred shrugged, and Ron grinned, nodding. Harry took a seat next to them and watched them finish a chess game.

"Wanna play?" Ron offered Harry as the board reset itself.

"Sure, but I'm not very good. My uncle tried to teach me once, but he always kept beating me, so I stopped." Harry watched as the final piece snapped itself into place, and Ron made the first move.

Thirty moves later, Harry was in checkmate, and his king waved a tiny fist at him as he fell over, defeated. "Well, that was fun," he commented dryly. "I have to go see the Headmaster," he said, standing up. "Thank you for letting me play."

"No problem, Harry," Ron said. "Anytime." Harry waved goodbye and trotted up the staircases to the staff room. Inside, he found his Head of House and a rather odd looking woman he'd never met.

"Excuse me," he said quietly, drawing his Head of House's attention. "I was told to see the Headmaster." Flitwick's eyes lit up and he politely, but hastily, excused himself from the woman's company.

"No matter, Filius," she replied wistfully, "I must return to the Tower and consult the Orb anyway. Good day." She glided out of the room and down the hallway. Harry shook his head and followed the Charms professor to a large stone gargoyle.

"Sugar Quills," he squeaked, and the gargoyle shifted to reveal a spiraling staircase. "He is expecting you, I believe. Just go to the top of the stairs and knock." Harry nodded and thanked the wizard before climbing the stairs. When he reached a large wooden door, he knocked twice.

"Come in, Harry," he heard the Headmaster's gentle voice drift through the door, and he carefully opened it a little and slipped inside. "Sit down, dear boy." Harry obeyed wordlessly, and his expression shifted to surprise when the Headmaster deposited a gift into his lap. He undid the ribbon carefully and pulled the paper away, revealing a stunning cloak.

"Wow," he whispered, "thank you, sir." Harry grasped the cloak as if he could know his father through it, and he imagined his father wearing it about his shoulders proudly.

"That is a special cloak, Harry. Use it well." With that, the Headmaster stood and disappeared into a back room, leaving Harry alone. Harry stood and tucked the cloak under his arm, for it would seem silly for him to walk around in a cloak much to large for him. He would wait to try it on once he was in the safety of his room. With that thought, he gathered the paper and threw it away before heading out the door and down the stairs. He paused for a moment to gaze at the magnificent gargoyle, but only for a moment as he raced back down the stairs and into the dungeons that housed his room.

Once inside, he shut his bedroom door and unfolded the cloak, admiring its sheen. He walked over to the mirror and draped the cloak over his shoulders, nearly falling over himself as he gazed in the mirror. He was invisible! His dad had left him an invisibility cloak!

After gasping aloud, he pulled it off, remembering the Headmaster's words. _Use it well_, he had said, but what did he mean? As Harry carefully folded the cloak and placed it at the bottom of his trunk, he remembered Hermione's present. Quickly, he grabbed the heavy rectangular object, knowing it was a book, and opened it.

"_A Beginner's Guide to Becoming an Animagus_," he read quietly, and grinned. He picked up the note she had written him and read it to himself.

_Harry,_

_I sent another copy to Colt and kept one for myself. No sense in putting off the inevitable. I do hope you sorted things out with Professor Snape. I'll see you in a couple of weeks._

_Hermione_

He smiled and flipped through the book, a little intimidated at some of the diagrams shown, then placed it under his cloak. No sense in his uncle finding out; he'd be grounded until he graduated. He stood and made his way to his desk, determined to get his thank you letters done before his uncle nagged him about it. He ripped into a chocolate frog, pleased to see that he had gotten a card he didn't have: Dumbledore's. As he read the back of the card, one thought filled his head, and his thank you letters to Colt and Hermione soon turned into much more.

After he'd finished most of his letters, he stood and stretched, noting the time. It was well after his bedtime, and his uncle would be in to check on him soon. His eyes shifted from the wizard card to his trunk, and a small smile graced his lips. He scrambled under the covers and placed his glasses on the bedside table, shutting his eyes firmly. Seconds later, his door opened, and he heard his uncle sigh. 

"Good night, Harry," Snape whispered, then shut the door. Harry waited moments before turning over and staring intently at the crack under his door. When it was completely dark, Harry counted to one hundred before getting out of bed and pulling out his cloak. Pulling it on, he admired himself in the mirror before he disappeared completely. Slowly, he made his way up and out of the dungeons, wandering around without the slightest worry of being caught by Filch or anyone else. He found himself in the library, and he quietly slipped to the Restricted Section, careful not to make a noise. Quickly, he sifted through the books on the shelf, looking for anything that would help him.

Suddenly, a small meow startled him. He turned to see Mrs. Norris, and he bolted, knowing Filch wouldn't be far behind. He headed back toward the dungeons, being as quiet as he could. He was about to round a corner when he heard his uncle's voice.

"We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie." Harry was surprised to see Quirrell on the receiving end of the cold sneer in his uncle's tone, and made to carefully move past them. As he did, Filch came up from the corridor.

"Professors," he seemed a little out of breath, "Someone's been in the restricted section. A student's out of bed." Without thinking, they took off toward the upper rooms of the castle, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He still had time to get back in bed.

He turned around and walked through a door he'd never seen before. _Perhaps it's a short cut_, he thought. He saw another door at the other side of the room, and he started for it, but a gleam pulled his attention.

A mirror stood in the corner of the room, alone, and Harry's curiosity got the better of him. He walked over, standing directly in front of the mirror, peering in. Slowly, two images faded in and he gasped.

"Mum? Dad?" he whispered. The woman with fiery red hair nodded, and the man who looked so much like him smiled. The woman smiled softly as well, placing her hand on his shoulder. To Harry's surprise, he felt it, as if she were really standing behind him. 

Then remembering that the teachers were on the prowl, he stood and bolted, throwing one last look at the mirror, and knowing he'd be back.

*****

"Back again, Harry?" the boy started at the Headmaster's voice behind him, and he snapped his head around, remaining on the floor in front of the mirror.

"Headmaster, I –" The old wizard held up a hand and looked down at him.

"I do not need the use of cloaks to become invisible," the old man said, handing the boy the delicate cloak. "I expect that by now, you've discovered what the mirror does?"

"It shows us whatever we want?" Harry tried.

"Not quite, but let's try this. The happiest man in the world will look into it and see only himself."

"So it shows us our deepest desire," Harry whispered, turning back to gaze at the two people who he longed for all his life. 

"Precisely," the Headmaster praised. "But tomorrow, the Mirror will be moved to its new home, and I must ask that you not go looking for it again." Harry nodded, his heart constricting painfully. He stood, feeling the arm of the Headmaster drape across his shoulders. "Let's get you back to bed. The term will start in a few days, and I suspect you'll want to get the most out of the last few days of the holidays." Harry smiled and bid the wizard goodnight, before pulling the cloak about him and dashing back to bed. Before he climbed under his covers, his eyes fell upon the two unfinished letters to Colt and Hermione. Quickly, he jotted down a sentence or two on each, sealed them for delivery tomorrow, and drifted off to dream about a life with two loving parents. As his parents pushed a five year old version of him on the swings, his little eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow standing in the distance, a small tear the only betrayal of its sadness.

*****

"So you think the Sorcerer's Stone is in the castle?" Colt asked quietly as they sat over their first Potions assignment of the term.

"No, I'm _sure_ that's what's hidden in the castle. Remember what Hagrid said? Fluffy's guarding it!" Harry exclaimed. "But where would you keep a three-headed dog without anyone knowing?"

"The out of bounds area on the third floor," Hermione put in. "I can't believe I'm actually contributing to this conversation," she reprimanded herself.

"That's brilliant Hermione! But who's trying to get the Stone? And why?"

"Well, Harry…" Hermione started uncertainly, but stopped.

"What?"

"No, you won't like it!" she shook her head.

"Come on," he pleaded. "Anything will work."

"Alright, but you have to promise not to get upset," Harry nodded. "Your uncle _did_ get injured that night on Halloween. And you said he was having an odd conversation with Quirrell about loyalties over the holidays." Harry nodded again, not liking where it was headed, but determined to work it out anyway. "What if he's trying to get to the Stone?"

Harry moved to shake his head, but he stopped as thoughts raced through his mind. It wasn't totally impossible, so he couldn't rule it out based on his relationship with the man. 

"Maybe we should go to Hagrid," Colt offered, "Try and get more out of him. He does seem to slip up quite a bit."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable using him like that," Hermione said.

"So we won't," Harry said. "We'll just visit him, and strike up conversation. See what comes up." Hermione shook her head, muttering something about "Slytherins in hiding," as they put the final touches on their essays and headed off for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How's that? Eleven pages in Word. Not much I know, but something at least. My muse finally came off his strike, so he's getting back to inspiring me.

On a more happy note for me, my PALACE CHASE was approved, and I'm transferring from Active Duty to the Air National Guard. I'll be moving back home to finish school and commission myself to be an officer in the Air Force. Much fun for me. Hopefully, this will give me a little more time to write, or it may cut out my time altogether. We'll see.

The next chapter will have a talk with Hagrid, baby Norbert, a stroll through the woods, and Harry's first (second) encounter with Voldemort. TTFN ~ Rickman's Girl


	8. Chapter 8

So sorry for the long wait. What with moving back home, enrolling in school, and job searching, it's been a tough two months. But hopefully I can turn my attention to this again.

A/N: The dragon/Malfoy/detention scene will be from the movie, not the book, as it's easier to fit in here. That is all.

* * *

They waited until nightfall, and after retrieving Hermione from the Gryffindor portrait hole, the three students crept down the stairs and out onto the grounds. At first, Colt had stared in awe of the invisibility cloak, and Hermione had given him a look that meant "you really shouldn't use that to break rules." But in the end, it was their saving grace past Filch and his cat.

They knocked softly, and soon Hagrid filled the doorway. "Who's there?" he rumbled, and Harry threw the cloak from their shoulders, momentarily startling his large friend.

"It's just us," he replied, but Hagrid didn't budge.

"I'm in no fit state to entertain tonight," he said matter-of-factly, making to shut the door. But Harry was not going to be put off that easily.

"We know about the Sorcerer's Stone!" he said hastily, causing the large man to pause and stare blankly. Finally, he stepped aside and the trio scrambled inside.

After several rounds of tea and explanations, Hagrid was shaking his head. "You don't understand! Snape's one of the people protecting the Stone; he's not about to steal it."

"_One_ of the people?" Hermione interrupted.

"There are other things protecting the Stone, aren't there?" Colt put in, "spells and things!"

"Yep, an' you can get all this nonsense about Professor Snape out o' yer heads right now. 'Arry, you of all people…"

"I know, Hagrid," Harry raised his hand, "I didn't want to believe it either. But we have to look at every option, and every piece of evidence we have points to my uncle."

"Um, what is that?" Colt asked suddenly, pointing at the rattling kettle pot that was sitting over the fire. Hagrid moved quickly and pulled something out of it with his mit; something that looked very much like an egg. He set it on the table and let the three students crowd around it.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. As if in answer, it began to hatch, and a small scaly reptilian creature poked its head through.

"That's a dragon!" Colt yelled before Hagrid placed his overly large hand on his face to quiet him down.

"I won him, I did; off a stranger in a pub. Seemed mighty glad to get rid of it actually." Hagrid knelt down so his face was almost level with the table and peered at the small dragon. "He's a Norwegian Ridgeback, he is. One o' the most beautiful creatures I've ever laid eyes on." Harry could only stare at the small, but dangerous, creature in front of him. Suddenly, movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He whirled, only to see a flash of silvery blonde hair dart toward the castle.

"Oh no! Malfoy's seen us! We have to get back to the castle, now. Let's go." He shoved his friends back under the cloak and they sprinted back to the castle. They dropped Hermione off and made their way back to the common room, but they found that their entrance was blocked by Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape. Professor Flitwick was making his way down the hall toward them, his face tired but determined.

"We're done for!" Colt whispered. Harry put a finger to his lips and cast a silencing charm on them. When Professor Flitwick gave the knight the password, Harry and Colt were nearly on top of them. As the doorway opened, they dashed inside, nearly knocking Malfoy aside. They darted up the stairs and to their room, only seconds in front of the teachers. Colt managed to slip under his covers fast enough, but Harry had a harder time with the cloak. He dispelled the silencing charm and stashed the cloak in his trunk as the doors opened; his uncle bearing down on him.

"Do you care to explain yourself?" Snape said in a low, menacing tone. Draco Malfoy stood to the side, smirking gleefully at the sight before him. Harry knew it was no use, but he tried it anyway.

"Sir?" he asked innocently.

"Mr. Malfoy tells me he saw you, Mr. Boot, and Miss Granger at the gamekeeper's hut. Now what would you be doing all the way down there when you're supposed to be here in bed?" His uncle's tone never rose, and Harry knew he was done for if he tried to lie.

"Sir," he began, "I was there, but they weren't. Hagrid had some friends from out of town over to see his new, erm, _pet_; a cat from the Hansley Mountains. They're said to be very rare, and each contains a different magical power."

"And his friends look exactly like yours?" Snape said menacingly, "I was not born yesterday, nor did I raise you to lie to your superiors. I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Potter. And you might as well stand up, Mr. Boot; I know you are not asleep." Colt slowly extricated himself from his blankets and moved to stand beside Harry. "Fifty points will be taken from each of you, and you will serve detention, to be set by your Head of House." With one disappointed look at his nephew, Snape whirled and exited the room. Malfoy moved to follow when Flitwick's voice stopped him.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said solemnly, "you will accompany Mr. Potter and Mr. Boot to a detention with Mr. Filch. Miss Granger, too, I'm afraid."

"What?" he drawled, unable to contain his tone. Harry shot a smirk over to Colt, who returned it knowingly.

"You, too, were out of bed after hours, I believe. You will join your classmates in detention." Draco shot Harry a venomous look before storming out of the Ravenclaw dormitories. Professor Flitwick turned his attention back to his charges.

"I am very disappointed in both of you. You could have been injured, or killed. It is not safe to wander around at night." Both of the boys stared at the floor as their Head of House reprimanded them. When he left, Harry and Colt breathed sighs of relief.

"Way to lose a hundred points, you dolts!" a voice from behind them called. In the midst of the incident, everyone had completely forgotten about the others in the room.

"Yeah, now we'll never win the house cup! Ravenclaw hasn't won in over thirty years, and we were ahead!"

"Yeah, thanks to Harry and his Quidditch skills!" Colt shot back, but Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No, they're right. We messed up, and we paid for it. I'm sure this isn't the last we'll hear of it either. But, Gryffindor and Slytherin were dropped as well, so we're all even really." Harry tried to soften things up, but he could see that his roommates were not in an appeasable mood. He sighed and climbed into bed, dreading Potions the next day.

* * *

Harry finished his classes the next day feeling worse than he'd ever felt. Every one of his teachers leveled a disappointing stare at him the moment he entered the classroom; but the worst was his uncle. Professor Snape had transformed somehow; no longer was he merely nasty to non-Slytherins. Now he was down-right cruel. He took points from Harry for so much as looking at another student oddly. Ravenclaw ended the day with thirty points less than what they had started it with. In fact, the only house which did not lose points that day was Slytherin.

So by dinner time, Harry was receiving glares from everyone, to include his Quidditch team mates and the whole of Gryffindor. Hermione didn't look better off, and she, Colt, and Harry huddled near to one another away from everyone else.

Filch met them at the door as they left, and they waited for Malfoy. He scowled at the trio as they all followed the caretaker through the halls and out the main doors. As they approached Hagrid's hut, the four students saw the giant man loading a huge crossbow.

"Here you are, Hagrid," Filch hissed. "Four for the forest, tonight." Malfoy's eyes bugged as he turned to the caretaker.

"The Forest? We can't go in there! There are…" a howl interrupted him, and Harry looked warily into the darkness. "…werewolves!" Draco finished hastily, his face whiter than his hair.

"There's worse than that in there, boy. You can be sure of that." With one last evil grin, Filch stalked off, leaving four frightened children in the care of the gamekeeper. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at Hagrid.

"What are we doing in there, Hagrid?" he asked shakily.

"I'll show ye," he said grimly, and sniffed once.

"What's wrong?" Colt asked.

"Dumbledore's taken Norbert! Sent him off to a colony." Harry's face scrunched in thought; who was Norbert? Then it dawned on him. Dragons lived in colonies in Romania; he'd heard Ron Weasley talk about his brother who worked there.

"That's good though," Harry put in as they began walking, "He'll be with other dragons."

"What if he don't like Romania?" Hagrid bellowed, causing Malfoy to snort. Harry whirled on him.

"You just shut your mouth, Malfoy! If it weren't for you, none of us would even be here." Without waiting for an answer, Harry turned back around, stepping up to a very pale Hermione. "You alright, Mione?"

"No," she whispered back. "This is _not_ alright."

"Scared, are you?" came a drawling voice from behind them. "Shouldn't even be here, filthy –" But before he could finish his sentence, Hagrid stopped suddenly at a fork in the trail and knelt down. The four students crowded around him and gazed at the silvery substance before them.

"What is it?" Colt asked.

"That's unicorn blood, that is," Hagrid answered. "This one's been injured, and it's our job to find it and help the poor beast." He rose to his full height and gripped his crossbow. "It'd be best if we split up. Hermione and Colt'll come with me. Harry, you take Malfoy and Fang." Harry grimaced as he looked at the fear-stricken boarhound, then at Malfoy.

"We should meet here in ten minutes," Harry said. "I don't really know the forest."

"True," Hagrid said, "Ten minutes it is. Be careful, and if you find anything, send some sparks up." Harry nodded and pulled his wand, watching as Malfoy did the same. They took the right fork and continued on for a few minutes. It became darker, and Fang scooted closer to Harry.

"This is insane," Draco spat suddenly, "Wait till my father hears about this!" Harry smirked to himself and held his lantern a little higher.

"What's he like?" Harry asked softly, looking around casually.

"What, Potter?" Draco snarled.

"Look, Draco, you're the one who left on the train; I invited you to sit." Harry was getting tired of Malfoy's superior attitude.

"Like I said, Potter, I don't associate with riff-raff. You shouldn't either. I'm surprised Professor Snape allows you to remain friends with Granger." Draco said Hermione's name as if it were a curse and Harry's wand hand clinched tighter.

"The professor doesn't tell me who I can be friends with; he's not like your father." Draco whirled and pointed his wand at Harry's throat.

"Don't ever talk about my father, Potter! You don't know anything about him." Harry stared calmly back at the silver-haired boy.

"Uncle Severus told me a few things about the pureblood families left; the Malfoys are the richest and most powerful. So it only stands to reason that you're only allowed to associate with the same type of people." Harry catered to the boy's ego, trying to coax him into a less hostile position. Thankfully, it worked, and Malfoy lowered his wand.

"Don't you forget it, Potter." Without another word, Malfoy turned and continued down the path. He didn't get very far, however, because the scene ahead stopped him in his tracks. Fang whimpered and ran back down the path, most likely in search of his master. Harry crept up next to Draco, staring at the sight before them.

A dark human-like figure was hunched over a silver-white horse, its blood. Suddenly, Draco screamed, and ran away toward the fork to call for Hagrid. The hooded creature stopped its feast and turned to Harry. A blinding pain shot through Harry's forehead, and he pressed his left hand against his scar. As the creature got closer, the pain increased twofold, and Harry fell to his knees. Just as his vision began to tunnel, he heard galloping from behind him, and large beast leaped over him, nearly landing on the advancing creature. The hooded figure backed away from the horse-like creature's attacks, and soon it retreated into the forest.

Harry just stared at the centaur, as if expecting it to turn and attack him next. But instead it offered a hand and helped him to his feet.

"Harry Potter," it began in a regal voice. Harry could only nod in response, still very wary around the supposed haughty creature. "It is not safe for you in the forest. You must leave at once." Harry nodded again, unable to find his voice for the lump in his throat. With a sad look, the centaur turned and gazed at the fallen unicorn. "It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Anyone who drinks the blood of a unicorn is doomed to live a cursed life…a half-life."

"But," Harry started, his throat still dry, "who would choose such a life?"

"Can you think of no one?" Harry's brow furrowed before he jumped backwards.

"You can't mean…Voldemort?" Harry dropped his voice at the last for fear of offending the large thing before him.

"Yes, the unicorn blood keeps him alive, but just barely. I cannot stress to you the imperativeness that you not return to the forest."

At that point, Hagrid came barreling down the path with three students and a boarhound in tow.

"Firenze," Hagrid said in greeting.

"Hagrid, it is good to see you. But you must get Harry Potter out of the forest. Dark things lurk here that he should not be exposed to." With a look skyward, the centaur galloped into the foliage, leaving Harry pale and short of breath.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione asked timidly from behind Hagrid's massive frame. Harry nodded, shooting an impassive glance at Malfoy. He seemed to be studying the scene that had just played out, running it over in his mind. _Great,_ Harry thought, _if he figures it out, he'll go running to daddy to tell him the Dark Lord is lurking in the forest outside Hogwarts._

"Let's go," Hagrid said gruffly, "Detention's over." Wordlessly, they made their way out of the forest and up to the castle. Without so much as a glance, Malfoy broke off and headed for the Slytherin common rooms in the dungeons, and Harry led the way upstairs. Once out of range of the Entrance Hall, Harry pulled them into an empty classroom.

"What's going on Harry? What happened out there?"

"We found it, the unicorn I mean. But something was on it, sucking its blood out." Hermione grimaced and Colt gaped.

"But drinking unicorn blood…" Colt couldn't finish the sentence for the sheer horror of it.

"It was Voldemort," Harry said simply, cutting his friend off. Hermione gasped and Colt tapped Harry's shoulder lightly.

"Don't say his name, mate! But how could he be out in the forest? You destroyed him 10 years ago."

"I don't think so; I think he was just hurt badly. Not dead, but close. He's been living off the unicorns."

"You-Know-Who's living out in the forest? Do you think he'll try to come after you?" Colt asked.

"I think if he'd had the chance, he'd have killed me tonight," Harry answered. Hermione's eyes lit up suddenly, as if remembering a long-forgotten fact.

"But it's alright, though. Ten years ago, there was only one wizard the Dark Lord was afraid of. Dumbledore! As long as he's around, you're safe." That thought did make Harry's heart lighter, but something was still nagging him. Voldemort couldn't possibly be surviving on his own; someone had to be helping him. The same someone who tried to kill him at the match, the one who was after the stone.

"I think I should see my uncle; he should know." His friends reacted instantly.

"But Harry –"

"I know, you think he's the one after the stone. And I can't for sure say he isn't. But if I tell him about this, I can find out."

"Or he'll discover that you know about it and it'll be all over." Harry sighed at Hermione but conceded.

"Alright, but the first sign of trouble and we go after the stone ourselves. Voldemort can't be allowed to get that stone."

"How are you not in Gryffindor mate?" Colt asked, clapping him on the back. Harry merely smiled slyly. Colt and Harry bid goodbye to Hermione, waving at her as she made her way to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"I can't believe she's telling us to study for exams!" Harry smiled at the outburst from Ron at the Gryffindor table, then grinned as Hermione shot the red-head a dark look from across the food.

"Well maybe if you did, you'd score a little higher in your classes. Honestly Ron –" but she was interrupted by Harry clearing his throat, and she blushed. He winked at her as she left Ron alone and buried her nose back into her Transfiguration text. Ron, however, didn't seem to notice that she'd left him alone, and he continued rambling.

"If I wanted someone to tell me what to do all the time, I'd have invited my mother to live in Gryffindor Tower." Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas laughed, but Harry didn't. Feeling someone's gaze on him, Ron looked over around the Great Hall until his eyes landed on Harry's venomous look. Ron gulped, remembering his promise to the other boy, and looked back at Hermione, who was now completely in her book, shielding her face from view.

"Sorry, Hermione," he mumbled. She nodded infinitesimally without looking up, and Harry turned back to Colt's explanation of their latest charm. He was about to ask a question on the principles of "swish and flick" when a hand fell on his shoulder. Harry turned and looked up into the face of his uncle.

"Mr. Potter, a word," he delivered coolly, and Harry nodded. Shrugging to his classmates, he stood and followed the potions master out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons.

"Sir?" Harry began, but was silenced by a hand from his uncle. They entered the potion master's office, and Snape shut the door behind him. Harry sat down in the chair in front of the desk as his uncle took his own.

"Harry, I've been worried about your behavior of late," Snape began. Harry's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"What I mean, dear boy, is the fact that you, Mr. Boot, and Miss Granger seem to be withdrawing, only consorting with each other, not talking to others. Your teachers tell me that you barely talk in class unless called upon to answer a question."

"That's good, isn't it?" Harry asked. "I'm not supposed to talk in class."

"Perhaps if you were older I would say so. For eleven year old boys, however, that seems to be innate behavior. So can you tell me why you are suddenly acting so strangely?" Harry only blinked once before answering steadily.

"Sir, end-of-year exams are coming up. I've never had to study for them before, and the older students have us all scared. Is Professor Quirrell really going to make us battle a troll?"

"Of course not, Harry. Dumbledore wouldn't allow it. Are you sure that's all it is?" Snape scrutinized him carefully, watching his movements. Harry, however, had come accustomed to this over the years and merely nodded.

"Yes sir. Now if you don't mind, Uncle Severus, I have to go study." Harry stood up and smiled, waiting for his uncle's nod of dismissal before walking calmly out of the classroom. Snape watched him go warily, still concerned for his nephew's behavior. He would have to watch the boy more closely.

* * *

"Absolutely dreadful," Harry said as they exited their Herbology exam. Hermione walked between him and Colt, browsing her text worriedly.

"Oh no! I didn't add that the Zarria root is also a useful additive in potions for clearing up a complexion. I do hope Professor Sprout doesn't count off." Colt peered over her shoulder and pointed to the paragraph above the one she was reading.

"She only asked for the main properties and two uses. You should be alright if you basically put this paragraph here." Hermione smiled at him and Harry rolled his eyes at both of them.

"I don't really care for that class. When's the earliest we can get out of it?"

"Sixth Year is when we start specializing," Colt said. "I think I might try for Dueler. Professor Flitwick made it sound brilliant." Harry nodded, recalling his Head of House's explanation of becoming a Dueler and the world-wide competitions he had been to. They found themselves in the courtyard, and a soft melody floated across the grounds. Harry looked up and smiled at Hagrid before turning back to his friends.

"Let's sit down. We have a while before dinner." Hermione nodded and sat down on a low wall encompassing a fountain. Harry and Colt took their customary places on either side of her and dove into some sweets Colt's mother had sent. Colt began chatting with a Hufflepuff on his other side while Hermione continued reading.

Harry's thought began to wander as the flute's melody filled his mind. His scar began burning slightly as he thought about all that had happened this year. He recalled the conversation they had had with Hagrid about Fluffy, then he smiled as he remembered the dragon egg that had gotten them into trouble. Something in Harry's stomach gave a little lurch as he asked himself how Hagrid had gotten the egg, recalling that Hagrid had won it off a stranger. But who walks around with dragon eggs? Suddenly, Harry jumped out of his seat and bolted for Hagrid. Hermione and Colt quickly gathered their things and ran after him. His hand shot to his scar as a surge of pain shot through him.

"Wait up, Harry!" Colt called, shouldering his bag.

"What's happening?" Hermione added, struggling to stuff her book in her bag while she ran.

"Don't you think it's strange that the one thing Hagrid wanted more than anything was a dragon, and someone turned up who just happened to have one?" Hermione shook her head and made to answer, but Harry started again. "I mean, who walks around with dragon eggs in their pockets? Why didn't I see it before!" As he finished, he stopped in front of Hagrid, who abruptly stopped his flute playing.

"Hello, how were exams?" he asked cheerfully.

"Hagrid, the stranger in the pub, what did he look like? The one who gave you the egg," he added at Hagrid's confused look.

"I don't know. He kept his hood up."

"You and he must have talked, though?" Hermione added.

"Well, he wanted to know what kind of creatures I looked after. I told him after Fluffy, a dragon's goin' ta be no problem."

"Did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked. Hagrid seemed a little fazed by all the questions, but he answered anyway.

"Of course he was interested! How often do ya come across a three-headed dog, even in the trade? He asked where I kept him, and I says the Headmaster borrowed him to guard somethin'. He just stands on that trap door guarding, but he gets cranky, see, because he does nothing but stay in that room. But I told him, I says the trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy for instance. Play him a little music and he falls right asleep." Harry shared a look with his friends before they turned and bolted into the castle.

"My scar's been burning all day," Harry explained. "I think it means something's happening; we need to speak to someone." Hermione took the lead and ran to McGonagall's office. They ran into the open door of the deputy headmistress' office and stopped at her desk, out of breath.

"We need to speak to the Headmaster, ma'am," Hermione breathed. The Head of Gryffindor House eyed them like a cat through her spectacles, reminding Colt of his first Transfiguration class.

"I'm afraid the Headmaster is away on business; he received an urgent summons from the Ministry." Harry's heart pounded harder in his ears.

"But it's an emergency!" he yelled, not caring that this was his teacher, "It's about the Sorcerer's Stone!" McGonagall's stare turned to ice as she addressed them curtly.

"I do not know how you children know about the stone, but I assure you it is quite well protected. Now kindly return to your dormitories…_quietly_." She dismissed them with a look and they walked out dejectedly.

"Now what?" Hermione asked as they grouped outside the doors.

"We go down the trap door…tonight."

"Mr. Potter," came a cool voice from behind them, "Exams are over." He leveled a knowing glare at his nephew, and Harry gulped. "You should be outside celebrating, no?" Harry nodded as his uncle nodded curtly at them and turned around.

"I still don't think –" Harry began as his friends stared after Snape.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter," Snape called, turning back around, "please see me after dinner." He stalked away, scattering what students had gathered in the halls. Colt raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"Do you think he knows what we're up to?" he asked.

"He can't," Harry said, "unless he can read minds." With that, they made their way to their dorms, preparing themselves for the unknown that lay ahead.

* * *

"Take my cloak," Harry instructed Colt at dinner. "Go get Hermione and make your way to Fluffy. I'll meet you there after my uncle gets done with me, and then we'll get the stone to McGonagall." Colt nodded, finishing his dinner. Harry stood after draining his goblet and exited the Hall, making his way down to the dungeons.

He knocked once, calling through the slightly open door. "Sir?"

"Come in, Harry." The boy opened the door quickly, making his way to the rather uncomfortable chair in front of his uncle's desk.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Harry. I have some business to attend to this summer, and I'm afraid I won't be able to get back to the Manor much. You can go back if you like, stay there by yourself most of the summer."

"Yes sir, that's fine. I've stayed there alone before." Harry had to fight not to fidget in his seat as his uncle watched him.

"Of course, Harry," he said strangely. "However, I suppose if you want your friends over, I see no harm in letting them come for a week or two. Provided, however, that Miss Granger's room is in the East Wing." Harry smiled, shrugging, and moved to get up.

"Thank you, Uncle Severus. I'm sure they would like that, but Colt might find it a bit strange to be at a professor's house over the summer." Snape gave Harry a sly smile and waved him away playfully.

"Go Harry, have fun with your friends for one last day. Do you want to ride the train to King's Cross and back?"

"Can I ride there and then floo to the Manor?" Harry asked hopefully, not wanting to ride the large express all by himself.

"Certainly not by yourself. You can, however, catch a train from King's Cross to Raineshold. I will ask Mrs. Goldstein to pick you up." Snape replied. Harry nodded at the compromise, excited at the thought of seeing the old witch that lived down the road. She had been like a grandmother to Harry, and he was eager to tell her about his first year.

"Well, run along," Snape said, and Harry waved as he shut the door behind him. He walked normally until he was well out of the dungeons, then took off at a run towards the third floor. As he approached the door to the room that held Fluffy, Colt and Hermione materialized.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked them, and when they nodded, his hand found the doorknob.

* * *

Alrighty, there we are. We're almost done. One chapter, maybe two and then the summer. I do apologize for the excruciatingly long wait, but I should be able to write more often now. I have a job, enrolled in school, and have a working schedule now. I should just slot some time for writing. Ah well.

Okay, now for the million dollar question…what about Malfoy. It seemed that he and Harry reached some sort of "agreement" in the forest, but you never can tell. Not that it would be any time soon (say after book 5), but should he and Harry come to a truce? Or should he be the resident bad guy for good? I'm debating both, and I can come up with good points for both sides.

Thanks to all who are sticking with me.

Rickman's Girl


	9. Chapter 9

To address one reader who pointed out the fact that Snape couldn't be the one after the stone because Harry just came from Snape's office: There are many ways to get to that particular corridor, and the teachers who were part of the stone's defense must have some way to get down there quickly in case the alarms were tripped. Of course, they would know how to disarm the alarms too, for those wondering. Kudos, _Charlie Quill_, on your astute observation. For that, this chapter is for you.

* * *

"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked his two friends, and when they nodded his hand found the doorknob. 

It opened easily, as the door hadn't been shut completely. Harry shot a wary glance at his two companions as the door creaked open. A faint musical melody drifted to their ears, and Hermione pointed out the still-playing harp in the corner.

"He's already been here," Harry said, noting the trap door that lay open. "Let's go." They crowded around the black hole, peering into the depths.

"How far down do you think it is?" Colt asked, a sudden chill washing over him. Both Hermione and Harry shrugged as Colt sat back on his haunches. "Does it seem…_quiet_ to you?" They all turned to gaze at the harp, which had inexplicably stopped playing. A low grumble could be heard from above them, and they all looked up to see three humongous heads looming over them. Harry pushed Hermione into the hole, jumping immediately after her. Colt followed suit, but not before Fluffy ripped a chunk of his shirt from his shoulder.

The three children landed hard on a firm but giving surface, which began to move under them.

"Is everyone okay?" Harry called, hoping that none of them had been injured from the fall.

"I'm okay," Hermione called.

"Me too, but Mum's gonna kill me. This was my best jumper." Harry chuckled a little, moving his limbs to make sure nothing was broken. Before he could stand, however, something slithered out and wrapped itself around his neck. He looked around at his friends to see they were in the same predicament. Out of instinct, he began to struggle, but that seemed to only make it worse. As one, the three children chorused.

"Devil's Snare!"

"We have to relax," Hermione explained.

"What good will that do?" Harry yelled out.

"Do you remember nothing Professor Sprout taught us?" she called back, forcing her muscles to relax. Almost instantly, she sank through the vines, causing Harry and Colt to cry out.

"Hermione!" Harry called out in panic. But through his struggling he heard her voice from below him.

"Just relax! Trust me!" Harry looked around in a panic as Colt closed his eyes momentarily before sinking through the vines.

"Colt!" He lurched up, trying to free himself from the vines' hold, but they only gripped him tighter.

"He's not relaxing, is he?" Colt asked Hermione once he'd picked himself up off the floor. Hermione shook her head and pulled her wand, but was at a loss as what to do next.

"Think, think," she muttered to herself. "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare. It's deadly fun…but will sulk in the sun! That's it, Devil's Snare hates sunlight!" She pointed her wand at the mass of vines above her. "_Lumos__ Solem!_" A beam of light shot forth from her wand, causing the vines to jerk away, thus relinquishing their hold on Harry. He dropped through unceremoniously, and Colt laughed as he helped his friend up.

"Lucky you didn't panic," he joked. Harry brushed himself off and glared at Colt.

"Come on," they heard their friend's voice from ahead of them. "If we don't hurry, we won't be able to stop Sn-whoever from getting the stone." Harry and Colt rushed forward and joined Hermione in the hall. As they walked, they began to hear fluttering ahead of them.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, straining her ears. As they neared the end of the hall, the rustling grew louder. They reached the end of the hall and gazed at the large chamber before them. It looked oddly immaculate for a room buried beneath the castle, but stranger still were its occupants. Hundreds of birds were flying around, glittering the light. Colt looked closely at the layout of the room and saw a door on the other side. He strode over to it purposefully and pulled on the handle. But it wouldn't budge. He tried a couple of unlocking spells, but none worked.

"I'm gonna have to fly," Harry said from behind him. Colt turned to see him running his hands over a broom carefully placed in the center of the room. He then turned his attention to the birds flying around, expecting one of them to dive at him at any moment. But then he realized they weren't birds at all…they were keys. Harry nodded at him in agreement and began scanning the room for the key that fit the door.

"It's gonna be an old-fashioned one," Colt offered, peering at the lock on the door.

"I see it!" Harry said, grabbing the broom. But as soon as he kicked up off the ground, every key in the air began zooming at him, causing Hermione to shriek in panic. She dove for the door and grabbed Colt's hand as they pressed themselves against the wall.

Harry flew up and around, dodging the metal keys at dangerous speeds. A few grazed him as they tried to swarm his vision, making him momentarily lose sight of the key he needed. He felt the blood drip down his face, but he ignored it, searching desperately for his target.

Then he saw it again: a key, a little larger than the others, with a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and forced into the lock. It was surrounded by other faster keys like some sort of guard, but Harry was quick. He darted forward, thrusting his hands into the mass of keys. He felt them scratching his hands, but to no avail. His fingers closed around the old key and he dove down, heading straight for his friends.

"Catch the key!" he called out, and Hermione readied herself. Harry threw the key down as she reached up for it, grasping it firmly. Harry pulled up in time, followed by the rest of the keys. Hermione quickly opened the door, ushered Colt through, and held the door open for Harry. But Harry wasn't going to make it to the door before the keys overtook him. With the old key in her hand, Hermione waved it around, darting back to the hallway they had come from. Harry flew through the door as the keys switched targets.

"Shut the door! Go on!" Hermione yelled at her friends.

"Let the key go! Come on!" Harry cursed her Gryffindor bravery silently as he watched her dodge several attacks. She found a haven in a small nook across the room.

"I can't without letting some of these buggers in with you. Just go, I'll be fine!" Hermione waved at her friends from her crouched position in the corner. The keys were hovering dangerously overhead, waiting for her to move. A few of them saw Harry move from the doorway and darted that direction. Quickly, Harry grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

Colt protested as Harry shut and bolted the door, but knew it was the only way to go on. "What next?" he asked in exasperation, running his hands through his disheveled hair.

"Someone's already handled it for us," Harry stated, staring at the room before him. Large pieces of stone were piled around the room, as if statues had been blown apart. Harry gazed at the line of black figures facing away from them, and the ruins of white dust that lay on the other side of the room.

"It's a chess board," Colt stated, "Or it was. Whoever was down here just blasted their way through. Guess they were in a hurry." They walked quickly across the rubble and through the next door. A foul smell filled their nostrils, and Harry turned away instinctively.

"What is that?" Colt asked, covering her mouth. But his question was answered as they saw the large mountain troll resting in a rather uncomfortable position in the middle of the room.

"How long do you think this has been here?" Colt asked Harry. He smiled at his friend slyly as they carefully tiptoed past the unconscious troll.

"I'd say Halloween," Harry chuckled. Colt rolled his eyes as they stepped through the next door. "You know," Harry continued, "the more we go on, the more I don't think my uncle could be the one after the Stone."

"Why, Harry?"

"Well first, as skilled as he is, there's no way my uncle could catch that key. He was a Chaser his years here. And he loves chess, so I don't think he would have simply blasted his way through."

"Unless he was in a hurry," Colt pointed out.

"My uncle can beat me in five moves," Harry replied. "And that troll was still breathing," Harry gestured behind him. "My uncle _hates_ trolls. He would have killed the thing outright just because." They entered the next room and Colt looked at Harry.

"Yeah, but only the teachers can bypass their own defense." He pointed to the seven potions placed carefully on the table. Harry groaned as purple fire lit up behind them, and black flames licked the doorway ahead.

"Now what?" Harry asked. Colt stepped forward and pulled a scroll from the table, unrolling it and allowing Harry to gaze over his shoulder as he read:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line,_

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death on their insides;_

_Fourth, the second on the left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though are different at first sight._

"Now _that _is my uncle," Harry sighed.

Colt turned to Harry, smiling. "My brother used to bring logic puzzles home from high school." Harry shot him a quizzical look. "He's a Squib, my oldest brother. Mum and Dad sent him to Muggle school; he wants to be a math professor."

"Okay, so what do we do?" Harry pulled his friend back on track.

"Give me a minute," Colt said, taking the scroll over to the table and repeated the riddle to himself, pointing to each bottle in turn. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher the logic puzzle. After a few minutes, he clapped his hands together.

"I got it!" Harry walked over as Colt began explaining.

"This one," he picked up the smallest bottle, "will get us forward through the black flames." Harry took the bottle from Colt's hands.

"There's only enough for one," he pointed out. "Which one gets you back?"

"This one," Colt picked up the round bottle at the right end.

"Take that one," he began, "go back and get Hermione. Take the broomstick up and out past Fluffy. Get a message to Dumbledore with a school owl. I'll go on and hold whoever is down there. That'll give Dumbledore enough time to get here."

"And what if You-Know-Who is with him?" Colt asked timidly.

"Then I'll see if my luck holds out," Harry answered darkly. Colt shook his head.

"Snape's had a bad influence on you." He downed the potion in his hand and shuddered.

"What's it like?" Harry asked.

"Like ice," Colt answered as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good luck, Harry.."

"You too, Colt," Harry said as he watched his friend walk through the purple fire. He turned to face the black flames and fingered the small bottle in his hands. He paused for a moment afraid to go on; afraid of what would happen if his uncle were the one to face him on the other side. Pushing his fear down, he drank the potion in one gulp. Hot ice swept through him and he forced himself through the black flames. He stopped dead as he faced the man on the other side of the flames.

"No," he whispered helplessly.

* * *

Alright, let's take a vote. Who wants to lynch the author for that terrible cliffhanger? -show of hands- 

…wait a minute…

Next chapter will wrap things up. Thanks to all who are sticking through this.

**If you would like to be placed on a mailing list for updates, say so in review and leave email address!**

Rickman's Girl


	10. Chapter 10

Oh my, that last cliffhanger was evil. Sorry folks, I didn't realize I'd be gone this long. But here it is, the last installment for the first book. Should I continue in this thread, or start another for summer and second year? I'm probably just going to continue, as I don't really feel like coming up with more titles. Enjoy. –RG-

* * *

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter," the man said. "I did not think you capable of getting through that last one." Harry stood stunned for a moment before he found his voice.

"Colt helped me," he admitted. "Why are you here?" Harry stared down his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher incredulously, not believing it was he who was after the stone.

"Are you daft, dear boy? I wish to obtain the Sorcerer's Stone!" He whirled around, facing a mirror Harry recognized all too well. "But how do I get it?" he shouted at the Mirror of Erised. Harry watched as Quirrell searched around frantically, as if the mirror itself had the stone within. Harry stole a few seconds to look around the empty stone chamber. Columns lined the walls, though they were more for decoration than function. Marble steps ascended behind him, leading back the way he had come. There was no door on the other side, so Harry surmised this chamber held the stone. _But where?_ He saw no locked container, no guarded imprisonment for the precious stone. Suddenly, a disembodied voice rang through the chamber, chilling Harry's bones.

"Use the child," it said, "He will obtain it for us." Harry took one step back, up the steps, before Quirrell spun around.

"Get over here, now, Potter!" Harry stayed rooted to the spot, but Quirrell strode over and grabbed him roughly by the collar. He fought back, using all his strength to fight his professor. His mind thought back to his uncle's teachings when he was younger, should he ever be accosted by a stranger in Diagon Alley. He began kicking and screaming violently before dropping all of his weight to the ground. Quirrell, having been caught off guard by the sudden weight he held up, dropped the boy. Harry scrambled backwards and pulled his wand, getting to his feet quickly. Quirrell merely smirked and drew his own wand.

"Do not harm him," the voice called again. Without warning, Quirrell shot a disarming charm at Harry, depriving him of his wand. Then he cast a levitation spell, forcing Harry into the air and in front of the mirror. Before he was freed of the charm, Harry felt himself be rooted to the spot. He gazed in the mirror, expecting to see his parents once again. But instead, he saw only himself. His mirror-self reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. The stone! Harry watched his mirror-self replace the stone in his pocket, and a small bulge formed in Harry's own. Knowing now where Dumbledore had hidden the stone, he continued to watch the mirror.

"Well!" his teacher's impatient voice filled his ears. "What do you see?" Harry quickly thought up a lie, and hoped it was good enough.

"I…I see myself, standing with my parents," _Not a total lie,_ he thought. "They're pushing me on a swing." Quirrell seemed to buy it for a moment, before the disembodied voice rang out once more.

"He lies!" Harry turned and bolted, but flames shot up around the stairs, blocking his exit. "Let me speak to the boy."

"Master, you are not strong enough," Quirrell protested.

"Do not defy me!" the voice yelled out, and Quirrell flinched. Carefully he began to unwrap the turban on his head, and when it was completely off, Harry gazed at the reflection in the mirror.

The most hideous thing he'd ever seen stared back at him, smirking evilly from the other side of Quirrell's head. Quirrell seemed to be slightly disturbed at the parasitic creature attached to his head, but he knew he had no other choice. "Hello, Mr. Potter."

"Voldemort," Harry whispered, and Quirrell flinched. The face on the back of his head nodded slightly, tilting Quirrell's head.

"Yes, you see what I've become. A parasite, forced to live off another," it hissed.

"What about the unicorn blood?" Harry wondered aloud, trying to distract the wizard long enough for help to arrive.

"It sustained me for a while, but I soon realized I had to turn to other…resources to ensure my survival. My most faithful are always eager to serve me, to help me when I'm in need. I would allow you to do the same, Harry." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You would be my equal, Harry, not my servant. Together, Harry, you and I will do marvelous things. I can make your deepest desire come true. But in order for me to help you, you must help me." Harry unconsciously reached for his pocket, and the face smiled. "That's it, Harry. All I need is that elixir, and you and I can begin our alliance."

Harry paused, thinking about the man's offer. Voldemort could bring Harry's parents back; that was no lie. Resurrection was a dark art indeed. But Harry knew if he sided with the dark wizard, there would be nothing but death and destruction.

"You are a liar! All you do is kill!" Harry turned around and made for the flames, but something took him down from behind. He turned to see Quirrell on top of him. Not bothering to wonder how the man had reached him so quickly, he reached out and stopped the man from getting a good hold around his neck. He rolled to his side, effectively pinning the stone between him and the floor. His hand found Quirrell's and a sizzling sound could be heard echoing through the chamber. Quirrell jumped up, holding his now-dissolving hand out in front of him.

"What's happening, Master?" he cried out.

"Fool!" Voldemort yelled, "Get him!" Quirrell moved forward, but Harry had already formulated a plan. Faster than he'd ever moved before, he reached out and cupped his hands around Quirrell's face, hearing the man cry out in pain. Harry clambered backwards as the man fell, disintegrating with a painful, agonizing howl.

Silence filled the chamber as Harry stood to retrieve his wand from in front of the mirror. He pocketed it and pulled the stone out, studying the small object carefully. He then looked up into the mirror his eyes searching for his parents one more time. He found them, pushing him on the swing, just as they did in the previous vision. Harry focused on his parents, smiling and laughing with him. But this time, Harry noticed something he hadn't seen at Christmas: a shadow, almost invisible, in the background. Harry squinted his eyes and leaned closer to the mirror, trying to discern the shadow's origin. The shadow phased in slightly, then out completely, but not before Harry recognized the distinctive profile of his uncle. Sadness filled his heart as he watched the family in the scene continue on as if nothing had changed.

"Uncle," Harry whispered softly. He reached up and touched the glass, watching sadly as the scene faded, leaving him alone in the chamber. A faint whispering attracted his attention, and he turned to the steps where the ashes of his Defense teacher lay. A form was rising from the ashes, and Harry involuntarily took a step forward, wondering what was happening. Before he could react, the misty form shot toward him, letting out a horrendous scream of terror. Harry clutched the stone protectively as the form coursed through him, sending pain to every corner of his body. When it was over, Harry fell to his knees, then to the floor. Just before his eyes closed, he saw the man-shaped form float up and out of the chamber, seeking freedom.

* * *

Harry groaned and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillow. _Wait, pillow?_ Harry opened his eyes, expecting to see the dark, cold stone of the dungeons, but only his uncle's tired and angry face filled his vision.

"Harry Ja –" he started, but as the doors to the Hospital Wing opened, he stopped. Headmaster Dumbledore strode through smiling, with Hagrid trailing behind.

"Oh good, you're up," the headmaster said gleefully. Harry bolted from bed, his mind flooding with the events that had just transpired.

"Sir! The stone! Who's got the stone?" Severus placed a forceful hand on Harry's shoulder, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"Relax, dear boy," Dumbledore assured, "The stone has been destroyed. Nicholas and I have had a long chat and he realizes that it's too much of a risk to keep it."

"Nearly got you lot killed, it did," Hagrid put in shamefully. "An' I'm the one who went and told the bugger how to get past Fluffy." Harry realized Hagrid must have had time to think about all this, and quickly glanced around for a clock.

"What time is it?" he asked, more to distract his uncle's intense gaze than out of curiosity.

"It is 3 o'clock on the 31st of May," Dumbledore supplied for him.

"What about Colt and Hermione? Are they okay?" Harry berated himself for not thinking of them earlier, but sighed as the headmaster assured their safety.

"Minor injuries; they were fixed up in a pinch. You should be well enough to attend the Leaving Feast tonight, I should think. You have quite a few admirers." He gestured to the various cards and sweets that surrounded Harry's bed. Harry glanced around, just seeing his gifts for the first time.

"But –"

"What happened down in the dungeon between you and Quirrell is a complete secret. So, naturally, the whole school knows. Hagrid, could you go fetch Madam Pompfrey please?" Hagrid nodded curtly and left in a hurry. When the door shut firmly behind him, the headmaster took a step closer to Harry's bed, and Harry knew he could now ask the things that had been burning inside him since he'd awakened.

"Sir, I should be dead by all rights, but when Quirrell touched me, he burned up. Why?"

"Harry, your mother died saving you. That kind of act leaves a mark, something that lives on in your soul and body; in your skin: love. Quirrell was possessed by an evil that could never understand such an emotion. He was filled with so much anger and hatred that touching something so good was pure agony."

"But how did I get the stone out of the mirror?" Harry asked when he'd found his voice again.

"Ah, that is one of my more brilliant ideas; and that is saying something." Harry couldn't help but smile at the twinkle in the old man's eyes. "You see, only a person who wanted to stone, wanted it but didn't want to _use _it could get the stone out of the mirror." Harry nodded, questions still burning in his mind. "But you deserve some time alone with him, Severus, so I'll be on my way." Harry swallowed a large lump that had formed in his throat as the headmaster bid farewell and departed. Harry felt an intense gaze on him and looked up into the swirling obsidian eyes of his uncle. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the worst. But to his surprise, his uncle did not blow up at him.

"Harry, I cannot stress to you the depth of peril you put yourself in, not to mention your best friends. The Dark Lord is powerful, more so than you have witnessed, and I fear you will not be so lucky next time." Severus paused, collecting himself. "I must admit I have never been as scared, worried, or angry as when the headmaster entered my office to tell me what had transpired. I thought I had instilled in you a little more common sense, but I guess you'll always be a Gryffindor."

"But I'm in Ravenclaw," Harry pointed out indignantly, sitting up.

"Well you certainly haven't acted as one," Severus raised his voice a little. "The Sorting Hat has made errors in the past; I can think of a few from my years here, as well as my years as a teacher. You are most certainly a Gryffindor." Severus composed himself before he continued in a calmer voice. "Why didn't you come to me with any of this? If you suspected Quirrell was after the stone, I should have been the first person you told!" Harry mumbled something under his breath, and Severus leveled a glare that would have sent seventh years running.

"What?" he said agitatedly. Harry fidgeted with his sheets, momentarily reminding Severus that Harry was still a child; one who attracted trouble like the plague, but a child nonetheless.

"I said…we thought you were after the stone." Severus sat in shock for a moment, mulling over this new information.

"Why on earth would I want to be immortal? To see all of my friends die, to watch you grow up, move on, and eventually die?"

"No," Harry protested, trying desperately to find a way to convey what he wanted to. "We thought you were after the stone for Voldemort; to help him come back."

"Why on earth would I want that bastard back in power? I thought I'd conveyed my feelings of the Dark Lord quite avidly at Christmas." Harry groaned as he realized he'd forgotten completely about their conversation.

"We…we were so worried about the stone that I forgot." Harry fell back against the pillows.

"You didn't think," Severus explained, "And while rashness is, unfortunately, a trait of youth, I have no choice but to punish you properly. This was a school-related event, however the year is over; detentions cannot be served. So you will be grounded to the manor for all of June." When Harry looked ready to protest, Severus said added in a firm tone, "I could make it the entire summer, Mr. Potter." Harry's mouth snapped shut and he settled for a disgruntled glare. Severus stood and called for the mediwitch. Madam Pomphrey emerged from her office, her eyes focused on Harry.

"Is he well enough to leave?" Severus asked. "He will be going straight to my rooms, not to Gryffindor Tower." Poppy nodded curtly, marking Harry's release on his chart and taking the paperwork into her office. Harry stood with his uncle's help and got dressed. When he opened the curtain that surrounded his bed, his uncle handed him his glasses and a bag. Harry realized it held all of the things he'd been given during his stay.

"All this in a day and a half?" he mumbled to himself, but is uncle heard him.

"Yes, well you seem to have quite a fan club," Severus pointed out curtly. If Harry hadn't known better, his uncle almost sounded jealous. The rest of the journey was traveled in silence, and Harry didn't miss some of the sympathetic looks thrown his way by passing students.

* * *

"Another year gone," Dumbledore's voice rang out in the packed hall, and the few remaining chatterers quieted down. Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table with Colt. He threw a glance to the table behind him where Hermione sat next to Ron and Seamus. Ron was eyeing the green banners overhead with disgust, and Harry silently hoped that he wasn't angry with Hermione for losing the house cup. Really, no one was close to Slytherin. Even with Harry's Quidditch skills, Ravenclaw was in second - over one hundred points under Slytherin. Hufflepuff had come in third, only sixty points under Harry's house; and Gryffindor had lost every Quidditch match this year, placing them in last place, almost eighty points lower than Ravenclaw.

"And now, I believe the house cup needs awarding," Dumbledore continued. "Before I begin, however, some last minute points need to be awarded. First, to Miss Hermione Granger: for cool use of intellect in very dangerous situations, I award her fifty points." Ron cheered and clapped Hermione on the shoulder. They were out of last place.

"Second, to Mr. Terrence Boot, for applying knowledge and enlightenment to help others, I award Ravenclaw house fifty points. And finally, to Mr. Harry Potter, for bravery and outstanding courage," he smiled at Harry, but Harry caught his uncle's eye-roll, "I award Ravenclaw house sixty points." The cheering was almost deafening, but most of the Ravenclaws knew that, barring a miracle, they were still only in second.

"Alas, this doesn't change our decorations, but the points needed to be awarded the same." He took a pause and looked around at the students before him.

"In fourth place, Hufflepuff house with two hundred seventy-ninepoints. In third place, Gryffindor with three hundred nineteen points. In second place, Ravenclaw with four hundred fifty-nine points. And this year's house cup winner, Slytherin house with four hundred seventy two points." Tumultuous applause rose from the Slytherin table, and Harry clapped along with them. A few of his housemates were glaring at him, but they knew they would even be in second if it weren't for his Seeker ability. When the roar died down, Dumbledore smiled broadly.

"Enjoy your last meal of this school year, and have a safe yet eventful summer. We will see you all in September. To the seventh years, we wish you luck in beginning your lives beyond these castle walls, and we would like to congratulate you on surviving seven whole years." Several of the older students chuckled, and Harry saw from the corner of his eye several girls wiping their eyes.

* * *

The next morning, he said goodbye to Colt and Hermione, insisting he was fine. "Uncle Severus grounded me for a month, so I'll owl when I can," he told them.

"Are you going to have a birthday party?" Colt asked him.

"Maybe," Harry grimaced, "I'll ask Uncle." Hermione hugged him one more time before walking with Colt to the train. Severus walked over to Harry when most of the students had boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Harry waved goodbye to his friends, silently hoping his uncle would be in a better mood very soon. Severus noted his nephew's wistful gaze as the train began rolling and soon made its way around a bend. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, nearly startling the boy.

"Sorry, Uncle," he said, misinterpreting the man's look. Severus gave him a small smile, his professor mask slipping as his pupils were safely out of range.

"Come on, Harry," he said, "Let's go home."


End file.
